One of the Living
by Katharra
Summary: AU Melida/Daan. Qui-Gon Jinn returns to the planet to assist his former Padawan. Instead of a war zone, he finds a planet infected with a disease that cannot be understood. X-over with 28 Days Later.
1. Care

Qui-Gon Jinn took powerful, confident strides through the pristine hallways of the Jedi Temple, hands folded in the exaggerated arms of his frayed robe, his face a mask of serenity. He waited patiently outside the sliding doors that led to the hallowed chamber of the Jedi Council. When the doors opened with a whoosh, Qui-Gon walked into the centre of the room, standing calmly before the scrutiny of the Jedi Masters. He bowed deeply. "You requested my presence?"

Mace studied him before flicking his palm. A droid entered and shone a light in the centre of the room. A hologram appeared, shimmering into existence until a figure emerged.

Qui-Gon's eyes widened before his face hardened into a frown. "I don't have time for this," he growled.

"There's an infection," Obi-Wan's voice said.

Qui-Gon froze.

"It began a few weeks ago," Obi-Wan continued. "We don't know how. We suspected a biological weapon, but now I'm not so sure."

Obi-Wan's eyes were downcast but wide. He was visibly distraught.

"It spreads like wildfire. Within 20 seconds of direct contact, the infected change. They can't be controlled."

Obi-Wan's voice sounded small, afraid. Qui-Gon watched the hologram intently, noting the play of different emotions on Obi-Wan's face. Confusion, despair and something achingly close to terror.

"There aren't many of us left. There's nowhere to go. We're running low on supplies. We won't last much longer."

Obi-Wan finally looked up, his eyes pleading. "Please help us."

The hologram ended abruptly. Qui-Gon stared at the spot where the hologram had been, his heart sinking. He closed his eyes and centred himself. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the counsel.

"The transmission was sent yesterday. Obi-Wan has a beacon on him. We can track him on the planet to find his whereabouts," Mace Windu informed evenly.

Qui-Gon nodded. "I will go," he said resolutely.

Yoda regarded him calmly, although Qui-Gon thought he spied just the slightest hint of sadness in his large eyes. Then he nodded and waved his hand dismissively at Qui-Gon. "Return Obi-Wan to his home, you will."


	2. Requiem

They had taken refuge in an old, dilapidated two-story house. They had boarded up the windows as best they could, with what little material they could scavenge from the grounds and the house itself. It was a rushed job, but it would do for the time being. They preferred to spend most of their time upstairs and in the same room together. There was nothing in the room; no furniture or wall coverings, but the high ceilings gave them room to breathe and there were windows on either side of the room that gave them a good vantage point to spy any impending attacks. They took turns keeping watch, democratically and amicably deciding who would get what shift, who would wake the others up when it was their turn. Other than that, they talked very little, having found that there really wasn't much to discuss anymore other than tactics for basic survival and mundane, housekeeping matters such as where they should go to the bathroom. Prudently, they decided that the bathroom would be located downstairs.

They didn't have anything to heat up the house with. A fire was too dangerous. The infected were good at spotting those types of things. While Cerasi slept, Obi-Wan gently covered her with the thick woollen poncho he normally wore. She was huddled in the foetal position with her hands cupped underneath her cheek as a makeshift pillow. Nield was keeping watch, pacing back and forth in the spacious room restlessly and peeking through the gaps in the wood covering the windows. Obi-Wan's actions did not go unnoticed by Nield.

"You're going to be cold," he remarked quietly.

Obi-Wan shook his head but was blowing hot air into his hands to warm them up anyway. He looked up at Nield from where he crouched with a grin. "It's always cold."

Nield grinned back.

* * *

It was now 21 days after they encountered the first infected. The first infected they saw was an adult. Coincidentally, it had been Nield, Cerasi and Obi-Wan that saw it. They were scouting out a weapons cache, carefully moving from crate to crate, taking stock of how much was contained in each and how much explosive power would be required to take it all out. A commotion caught their attention, and all three froze, stilling their breathing to hear what was happening beyond their hiding spot. At first it was just yelling, then some odd grunting noises, then there was full-blown screaming and wailing followed by weapons discharging. All three took the chance and peeked over top of the crates. Cerasi quickly popped down and covered her eyes with her hands, as if willing to undo what she had just witnessed. Nield's eyes hardened until he could not take it any longer and then he too dropped into a crouch with his back against the crate, his pale and shaken face staring at the ground. Obi-Wan found that he could not turn away. He had never witnessed anything like it before. He racked his brain for an explanation, something to rationalize what he was seeing. Adults attacking other adults, vomiting blood into their faces; the victims going into convulsions before their twitching bodies stood up and locked on to other adults to repeat the procedure. But not all of them turned; some they ate, ripping flesh from limbs that were still squirming with life. They didn't discriminate, there seemed to be no thought process involved in who would become infected and who would become food.

Obi-Wan's heart was pounding in his ears. After a span of minutes, there wasn't anyone left who wasn't already infected or dead. Obi-Wan slumped to the floor, still processing what he had just seen. Cerasi was crying softly; Nield was rubbing her shoulder mutely.

"We have to leave," Obi-Wan whispered. "We have to warn the others."

Nield and Cerasi both looked at him and nodded in agreement. "What was it?" Cerasi asked.

Obi-Wan frowned. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "But whatever it is, it's spreading too quickly to be controlled."

They ran away quickly, taking furtive glances behind them. Every now and then, they could hear screams and the fierce sounds of battle. Obi-Wan felt the Force urging him on; he had to find the other Young and keep them safe. Cerasi was crying; her tears made her stumble. Nield was hanging onto her arm and coaxing her on. Obi-Wan slowed down his run to allow the two to catch up.

The reached the underground hideout of the Young. Nield set out rounding everyone up while Cerasi warned them to not venture outside. Obi-Wan began to seal the entrances, ignoring the constant barrage of questions that the curious children were dying to have answered. When he finished his job and turned to face them, he looked at them sternly. "No one goes out," was all he said.

For days that dragged on achingly slow into weeks, the Young had stayed in their cramped underground shelter, relying on their meagre rations and doing their best to keep their spirits up with simple games and stories. Everyday, the younger children bugged Obi-Wan and the others for answers. They never received a satisfactory answer other than '_there's something bad out there_'. To which the children naturally replied '_worse than the Adults?_' Cerasi nodded at them severely. Then she would tell them stories about mythical cities under the oceans.

They never knew how it reached the tunnels; they guessed that some of the children had decided to get some fresh air or to find more food. In any event, of the 7 or so who disappeared and were never seen again, one little girl returned with blood running down her nose. She staggered as she walked. The other children gasped when they saw her and naturally rushed to her aid.

He had been resting against a stone wall, trying to meditate but finding his grumbling stomach too intrusive. The Force leaped in Obi-Wan's mind. He was on his feet in an instant and reaching for the nearest weapon. Cerasi and Nield came running after him when they saw him take off down the hall.

By the time Obi-Wan reached the scene, two children were on the ground and not moving. Another girl was screaming bloody murder as the little girl with the bloody nose tore a chunk out of her neck with her teeth. Obi-Wan's stomach flipped with disgust for a moment before he raised the pipe above his head. The little girl dropped her victim and hissed at him. For a moment, Obi-Wan stared at her eyes; the new colour of yellow irises on a red background. Then she charged and that's when Obi-Wan swung. It wasn't enough to kill her; she came at him again and again. By the end of it, Obi-Wan's heart was pounding and he was shaking at the realization that he had just taken a child's life.

"Obi-Wan!" Cerasi's panicked voice jolted him out of his reverie. The two children who had been on the ground were picking themselves up, twitching and growling.

"Get everyone back! We have to seal it off!" Obi-Wan ordered. The children were stampeding away, falling over each other and screaming.

But it was too late and Obi-Wan would make a crucial discovery only after the panic in the tunnels had receded to the dying sounds of moaning and animalistic grunts. The infected could blend in. The quicker the transition, the easier it was to run with everyone else and bite one here and another there. The infection had entered the tunnels and within an hour, total devastation had come.

The survivors had run out of the tunnels screaming, scattering in all different directions. It was impossible to round them up, to sit them down and formulate a new plan. Obi-Wan was running too, but he had no clue where. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder and spun around to attack with his pipe when he stopped abruptly.

Nield was shielding his head with an arm. "Don't," he said breathlessly.

Obi-Wan heaved air into his tired lungs as he dropped his arm holding the pipe. "Where's Cerasi?"

She was calling to them from across the courtyard, waving them towards her. They ran and crouched beneath the barrier where she sat. "We have to leave," she panted. "Maybe get to the countryside. There won't be as many people there. Less chance of being attacked."

Obi-Wan and Nield shared an uncertain glance. "What about the others?" Obi-Wan asked.

Cerasi's face betrayed the sureness of her answer. "We have to leave. We can try to round up as many as we can, but if we go chasing after everyone we'll all be killed." She looked at them and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Why is this happening?" She asked in a tiny voice.

Obi-Wan shook his head and rested his hands on his knees. "I don't know."

Nield was glaring at the chaos beyond the barrier. "It's got to be the Adults. Those idiots must have been trying out some sort of biological weapon. I bet it backfired on them. Now they're hellbent on killing all of us."

"You don't know that," Obi-Wan reasoned. "For all we know, this is some sort of virus."

Nield snorted at Obi-Wan's response. "And you don't think it's at all odd that this started with the Adults?" He challenged.

Cerasi interjected by placing a hand on each boy. "Stop. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that it's happening. And we have to leave."

Obi-Wan rose to his feet with a tired sigh. "Which direction?"

Cerasi pointed east. "That way. I know a bit about the country over there. It's flat, not much cover. But at least we'll be able to see anyone coming for us."

Obi-Wan nodded at her sound reasoning. Nield stood as well. "So we run?" He asked.

Cerasi nodded and slowly left the confines of the stone barrier. "We run," she affirmed.

* * *

That was a week ago.

The routine in the house felt like it was established a year ago. Obi-Wan had sent his desperate plea to the Jedi Council a few days ago. They had not responded and he was beginning to lose his faith that they would. '_Not that I could blame them,_' he thought bitterly. '_It was my betrayal; not theirs_.'

The sound of wood being splintered made Nield and Obi-Wan freeze. Cerasi woke up with a jolt. "What was that?" She whispered.

Nield and Obi-Wan exchanged wary glances. Nield pointed to the downstairs. Obi-Wan nodded and quietly grabbed his metal pipe. Then he motioned to Nield and Cerasi to stay where they were. Cerasi was shaking her head defiantly at him. Obi-Wan flashed her a quick, reassuring smile before creeping down the stairs.

Someone was pounding on the wood covering the door, kicking it until it splintered, then punching through. Obi-Wan stealthily took up a hiding place beside the door so he could bring his pipe down as soon as the intruder entered. He was shaking, terrified at the thought of there being more than just one infected. He would not be able to hold them all off, but perhaps he could buy time for Nield and Cerasi to escape.

A large figure finally broke through the remnants of the boarded-up door and stood in the doorway cautiously. Obi-Wan brought the pipe down with a vicious swing.


	3. Life

Qui-Gon wasn't sure what he had been expecting as the shuttle began its descent but what he saw wasn't it. For some reason, his memory neglected to remind him that this was a war zone, not a mere contamination problem. Nearly every building he encountered was shelled from top to bottom, missing every window and sometimes walls too. Fires burned out of control, the smoke blocking any sunlight and bathing the world in a muddy orange haze. There was no longer any electricity. For that matter, there was no longer any signs of life either. No one rushed out to greet them or fire at them. No one peeked out from the shadows of bombed and abandoned buildings. Qui-Gon was not alarmed, but hints of foreboding whispered in the back of his mind.

The pilot settled the small transport vessel outside the crumbling city walls where Obi-Wan's last transmission had generated from. Qui-Gon raised himself out of his seat; behind him he felt the anxious energy of the young Padawan, Siri. Beside her, he felt the serene waves of calm ebbing from her master, Adi Gallia. The two were an odd match. Putting thoughts of them aside and focusing his mind on the task at hand, Qui-Gon strode down the ramp and touched the parched land.

Wind blew smoke and loose dirt across his vision. The Force was a maelstrom in his mind; urgent whisperings of danger flittered throughout his nerves. He held his lightsaber in his hand and readied himself. He turned slightly to glance at Adi Gallia. "Have the pilot and the co-pilot stay behind. They are not to leave the ship."

Adi Gallia nodded in agreement and strode towards the cabin to relay the message.

"Do you think we'll find him?" A young voice asked.

Qui-Gon looked down at the small girl with straw-coloured hair beside him. A grim frown settled on his face. He reached out with the Force, testing his once familiar bond with Obi-Wan. Dimly, he felt Obi-Wan's presence, but the connection was tenuous. Qui-Gon inhaled deeply before answering the girl. "He's not dead. We'll find him."

* * *

Adi Gallia held the beacon in front of her, navigating her way across the stretch of plain by the blinking red light on the small device held in her palm. "The signal is strong," Adi Gallia remarked. She turned to Qui-Gon and gave him a reassuring smile. "We are getting close."

Qui-Gon nodded. They had not encountered a single living person since arriving. Every now and then, they crossed paths with the dead. The smell always preceded the discovery, and more than once, Qui-Gon found himself shielding his nose with the arm of his robe. Siri had gasped in surprise when she first spotted the dead; she immediately tried to cover her surprise by feigning apathy. Her mask was getting more difficult to maintain when they came across the bodies of children. Qui-Gon allowed himself to feel the pang of heartbreak at their small twisted bodies, then he released the emotion and carried on.

"There," Adi Gallia pointed across a large stretch of field with long waving stalks of grass. "The signal is resonating from that area over there."

Qui-Gon cautiously surveyed the forest that hung at the edges of the valley. "We should make this quick," he remarked.

They were running at a smooth pace, ever keeping an eye on the darkened tree line. "Can you feel anyone?" Siri panted. "Anyone at all?"

Qui-Gon grimaced in response.

"Perhaps the infection has run its course," Adi Gallia offered.

"Perhaps," Qui-Gon answered, although in the back of his mind a small voice taunted him that he was dreadfully wrong.

They crested a hill and paused to take stock of their surroundings. Siri was breathing hard; the young Padawan had much to learn about conserving energy. Qui-Gon stood with his hands on his hips and took in the small village below him with a keen eye. Adi Gallia held the beacon out in front of her.

"I can't tell which house he's in," she said. "Qui-Gon, can you?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and concentrated every fibre of his being on finding Obi-Wan. Something fluttered in his chest and his breath hitched. He opened his eyes and turned to the beautiful Jedi beside him. "I know where he is."

* * *

The pilot and co-pilot had never flown together before; the former was a junior pilot, gifted but inexperienced while the latter was a seasoned flyer and disgruntled at being saddled with someone like her. He went by the name of Riggs, had scars on his face from some of his less seemly transports and was starting to show the physical signs of excess alcohol on his days off. Latimer, the pilot, did her best to ignore his grumbling and maintain her composure even while he needled her with spiteful little cracks about her inexperience on the job. The Jedi had ordered them to stay aboard the ship, and while obediently they did as told, the ship was becoming too small for the too of them.

They had only lasted a span of minutes in the cabin with each other before Riggs announced loudly that he needed to use the 'fresher. Rolling her eyes, Latimer ignored him and rested her head on her palm as she leaned against the console and watched the city before her burn.

Riggs had taken to smoking a long pipe filled with a mixture of noxious yet sweet-smelling herbs a long time ago. He found that the herbs soothed his nerves like no alcoholic substance could, not to mention the slightly giddy feeling he felt after finishing one. It was generally frowned upon in his occupation, which may have had something to do with the reason why he hadn't been promoted to captain years ago and why stuck-up little snobs like the one he was currently baby-sitting did. Peering around the barrier that separated the cabin from the general seating area in the ship, Riggs silently stole out into the night, remaining closely to the craft while he pulled out his pipe and lit it. He inhaled deeply, savouring the sweet aroma and playing with the smoke in his mouth before letting it escape into the night air. '_Jedi be damned,'_ he thought. '_If they didn't have a lightsaber shoved up their asses maybe they could enjoy something like this too.'_

Latimer wasn't oblivious; she immediately caught the small green flashing light on the console that alerted her to the bay door being opened and closed. She sighed in exasperation. "Idiot," she breathed.

Riggs was beginning the feel the euphoria kick in; the way his footsteps felt a little bit lighter, like gravity was playing with him. He was heading back to the bay door when he heard a shuffle behind him, like rocks scraping against each other. Groggily, he turned around and did not even have time to scream when two strong hands gripped the side of his face and dragged him down underneath the ship's belly.

Latimer was peering out the small round window of the bay door, squinting against the swirling smoke. Growling because she still couldn't see a thing and swearing at Riggs for his stupidity, she grasped the release handle and gave it a sharp tug. The door opened slowly, with a mechanical hum. She descended the ramp and stood at the bottom with her hands on her hips and a perplexed look on her face.

"Riggs!" She hollered. "Riggs, I swear if you don't get your fat ass back here in two seconds-"

She heard movement and stopped. She looked in both directions, then kneeled to peer under the ship. Something was disturbing the red dirt, making little plumes of dust swirl in the air. "Riggs? What the hell are you doing under the ship?" She hopped off the ramp and crouched down, wishing she had brought some sort of light to see whatever it was that Riggs was doing.

Riggs' face was suddenly an inch from hers and Latimer screamed. The skin on his face was hanging on one side, shredded into strips. His eyes were yellow on red and blood dribbled from his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and Latimer had time to scream and put her hands up defensively before she was thrown onto the ground and Riggs was on top of her, pinning her flailing arms beside her head and vomiting blood into her face.


	4. In the House

The initial noise came from downstairs but the second noise came from the upstairs. Obi-Wan had left to investigate the downstairs; only Nield and Cerasi heard the new disturbance. Both heads whipped in the direction it had come from. Rather than the booming pulses they heard from the basement, this was a subtle scratching noise, like small nails on dry wood.

"Vermin," Cerasi whispered, but her eyes were still wide with fear.

Nield watched the other end of the room intently, where a darkened doorway led to other rooms in the house. "Maybe," he whispered back. "Maybe not."

He began to rise, holding in his hand a gnarled piece of wood that he had been clinging to ever since they left the tunnels. It had the stains to prove its worth, as time and time again it had been used as a blunt weapon.

Cerasi was tugging on his arm urgently. "Nield, don't go," she pleaded, her eyes welling with desperate tears. "Please don't go."

Nield studied her, this once courageous and outspoken young girl who had led the youth of their world into battle against the adults in a vain attempt to stop the never-ending war that had plagued their ancestors. That person who he had unabashedly recognized as his intuitive leader was now reduced to a scared, quivering little girl. He felt a mixture of pity and anger towards her.

He gently unhooked her arms from his sleeve. "I won't go anywhere. I'll be right back," he promised.

* * *

Qui-Gon pushed against the boards barring his entrance into the house, feeling a bit of give but not enough to let him through. He began kicking at the wood, each powerful kick splintering the wood enough that he could then punch through completely. Finally shoving his way through the entrance, he stole a quick glance around the main hall while thumbing his lightsaber. A spike in the Force made him spin, but rather than skewer the being on the other side with his saber, he instead caught the hand that was about to come down on his chest with a metal pipe. His heart jumped as he realized whom he had caught in grasp.

Obi-Wan was gasping, his face fearful, then full of regret as he recognized the man he was about to club down; the man he once called Master. His numb fingers dropped the pipe as Qui-Gon slowly lowered his hand. Obi-Wan was shaking his head, taking deep gulps of air. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry," he stammered.

Qui-Gon was shocked into silence at Obi-Wan's behaviour. The scared boy in front of him was a shadow of his Padawan's former self. Qui-Gon swallowed before speaking. "Don't apologize, Obi-Wan," he said gently.

Qui-Gon's hand was still on Obi-Wan's arm. Something broke in Obi-Wan when he registered the warmth flowing from Qui-Gon into him. All of his resolve began crumbling, and he felt an overwhelming need to apologize for all the rashness and disrespect he had shown to him before. Regret flowed from him and became painfully obvious not only to Qui-Gon but to the other Jedi who had followed Qui-Gon into the room. Adi Gallia frowned sympathetically down at Obi-Wan. Siri seemed disgusted with his behaviour; she crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked everywhere around the room but avoided making eye contact with him at all cost.

Obi-Wan's mouth kept opening and closing, as if he couldn't decide where to start. Qui-Gon knelt in front of him and grasped both of his arms. "Obi-Wan, we need to leave. Are there any others?"

Obi-Wan's eyes widened as he suddenly remembered his companions. He still couldn't find words to speak so he nodded at Qui-Gon instead and slowly turned to lead them up the stairs.

When his hand touched the banister and he had taken his first step, he heard Cerasi scream. "No," he breathed. Then he was racing up the stairs, with Qui-Gon and the others following on his heels with lightsabers drawn. Obi-Wan burst into the room and stopped at a dead halt.

Nield was crouched over Cerasi's limp form. There was blood pooling beneath her head and neck. Her eyes were closed.

Obi-Wan felt nausea breaking over him in waves. He swallowed it down before speaking. "Nield?" he asked tentatively.

The jerky movements of the boy in front of him told Obi-Wan more than any verbal answer could have. Nield turned sharply, more forcefully than he needed to, but Obi-Wan knew that the boy he once knew was no longer in control of his own body. His face was covered in blood, whether his own or Cerasi's, Obi-Wan couldn't tell. His eyes were yellow on red, mimicking the lick of flames and glowing eerily in the dark. There was something in his mouth that Obi-Wan sickly registered as a chunk of flesh. Nield spit it out and regarded Obi-Wan with predatory eyes, tracking his every movement. Obi-Wan's face was etched in lines of pained anguish. "Nield," he mournfully whispered.

Nield made a guttural noise in the back of his throat. He sunk deeper into his crouch, as if ready to spring from his heels. Qui-Gon made a slight gesture behind Obi-Wan, readying his lightsaber in preparation. But rather than spring forward as they had anticipated, Nield did the opposite. In two bounds, he was crashing through a boarded up window and falling to the ground. Adi Gallia and Siri ran to the window. Already, Nield was picking himself up off the ground, his head jerking around in stilted movements. He looked back up towards the splintered and saw the two Jedi peering down at him. He growled and ran away clumsily.

Siri began to clamber up the window until her Master placed a restraining arm on her chest. "He is not our concern, Padawan."

Obi-Wan was frozen in time, staring at the torn and bloody remains of his friend and comrade. He ignored Nield's escape and barely registered Qui-Gon crouching over the girl, closing her eyes in one final, merciful gesture. Qui-Gon remained over her, but studied the boy standing before him. "We will take her with us," he announced.

Adi Gallia turned to her fellow Jedi. "Are you sure that is wise Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon continued to stare at Obi-Wan as he spoke. "Yes. She's gone. It's the living we have to worry about." He took off his long robe and wrapped it around her, hiding her small body within its confines.

Obi-Wan finally met his gaze, staring numbly into Qui-Gon's focused face. He moved to help Qui-Gon lift her body. Qui-Gon held up a hand to stop Obi-Wan from helping and swept Cerasi into his arms with one easy gesture. He stood in front of Obi-Wan and stared down at him. "We have to leave."

Obi-Wan nodded and mutely followed the group of Jedi out of the house.

* * *

They heard the howling as they came closer to the city. Obi-Wan's head snapped up in attention, then to the side as he traced the source. "From the forest," he said.

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed as he scanned the dark line of trees in the distance. "How fast are they?"

Obi-Wan stared in the direction of the howls and groans. "They know where we are." He turned to the rest of the group. "We should run."

Without further discussion, the four ran, easily sprinting over the countryside and towards the city. The animal-like howling, coupled with the frantic pounding of feet on dirt, made their push for the city even swifter. Siri spared a glance behind and immediately wished she hadn't. The humans that were behind them hardly resembled living creatures; some had gaping wounds, others were covered in blood that was most definitely not their own. They were pale and grimy; their clothes either in tatters or non-existent. But their eyes were all the same shade of yellow on red, making their feral appearances terrifying in scope. "They're coming," Siri gasped.

"The wall!" Adi Gallia pointed. "We need to jump!"

The wall surrounding the city was high, but it could possibly buy them some much needed time for the final sprint to the ship. Their legs pumped harder, preparing their bodies for the monumental effort required to scale the thick stone wall. Adi Gallia leapt gracefully onto the wall, turning just in time to catch her Padawan's arm and assist her onto the high ledge. Qui-Gon's jump took slightly more effort, given the extra weight he was carrying. He landed on top of the wall in a low crouch, still cradling the girl's body. Obi-Wan was last, and his lack of Jedi training for the last while showed instantly. He barely managed to hook a hand on the ledge and it took more considerably more effort to scramble to the top. They jumped down the other side, into the barren wasteland where the ship was waiting only yards away. Obi-Wan straightened and felt a sharp spike of pain in his ankle. He ground his teeth together in irritation at the twisted ankle.

They began to run again when they heard the nails clawing on stone and the frustrated yelps as bodies were flung against the unyielding wall. Obi-Wan knew it would only be a matter of time before they scaled it. They always found a way over any obstacle.

Qui-Gon felt that Obi-Wan was lagging behind. He paused to look back and saw Obi-Wan running with a noticeable limp. He grasped one arm of the boy and helped him along, feeling the raw emotions pour off of Obi-Wan who didn't seemed concerned with shielding any of his thoughts. The boy was angry with himself, embarrassed that he had to be rescued and helped in such a manner. If they had more time, Qui-Gon would have said something to help Obi-Wan see past his own faults, but time was something they were severely lacking.

They could see the ship ahead of them. Qui-Gon stopped dead before reaching it. Obi-Wan looked up at him quizzically. "We didn't leave the door open," Qui-Gon remarked.

Adi Gallia had also stopped before setting foot on the ramp and was now holding her lightsaber fully extended. She held up a hand to Siri, silently commanding the girl to stand guard. Siri stood with her back to the ship, holding her lightsaber in front of her with both hands and knees slightly bent in a classic defence formation. Qui-Gon watched the ship from a distance, keen eyes scanning the grounds around the ship for any signs of movement. Obi-Wan was watching the wall behind them, eyes growing wide as he saw the first few bodies flail over the edge and land in a heap.

Adi Gallia exited the ship and stood beside Siri. "They're gone," she announced.

Qui-Gon's eyes locked onto something. "No, they're not."

Siri followed his gaze underneath the ship's nose. Her eyes widened in surprise, then hardened as she saw both the captain and co-pilot scrambling out from under the ship, their twitches and gurgling marking them as infected.

Riggs was the first to attack. He came at Siri with arms extended and mouth full of blood. Siri cut him down with a diagonal swipe at his torso. Riggs crumpled, choking on air until his raspy breathing faded into nothingness. Latimer was next, but her walk was slow compared to Riggs. She seemed to study them all first, cocking her head back and forth and hissing all the while. Her eyes latched onto Qui-Gon and she began to stumble towards him. Qui-Gon watched her closely, allowing her to approach. Holding Cerasi over his shoulder with one hand, he plucked his lightsaber from his belt with the other and thumbed it on. Latimer snarled at the green light.

"I will bring you peace," Qui-Gon promised. He beheaded her in a move too quick for the eye to follow.

Obi-Wan was torn between watching the events of the ship and the growing number of infected recklessly running towards them. "We have to go," he insisted.

Qui-Gon spared a glance behind him before nodding at Adi Gallia. "Start the ship."

Adi Gallia ran towards the cockpit. Siri remained by the bay door, lightsaber at the ready. "Come on!" she shouted.

Qui-Gon nudged Obi-Wan towards the ship. Obi-Wan ran with a stiff leg up the ramp and stood uncertainly in the alien ship. Qui-Gon entered behind him and strode towards the back of the ship where there was a small medical bay with a metal slab for emergencies. Siri was last, pushing the large red button to close the door and watching the window cautiously while rabid hands pounded against it. The ship was stirring, powerful thrusters began to guide it upwards in rough, lurching motions. Siri slapped Obi-Wan's shoulder to gain his attention. "Strap in!" she ordered.


	5. Live Forever

Obi-Wan clumsily did up his harness and sunk back into the white leather seat of the transport ship. Numbly, he watched the city burn and the smoke curl around the glass of the ship. He was physically exhausted and emotionally devastated. He didn't think that he could look towards the back of the ship, knowing that her body was left on a cold, metal slab, hidden under a white shroud. Unbidden tears slipped down his cheeks but he made no move to wipe them away. He didn't care if the others saw them. He was frozen in his seat, staring at Melida/Daan's distancing form as they pulled out of the atmosphere and into the black nothingness of space.

Qui-Gon was sitting in the cockpit with Adi Gallia. He stole a glance over his shoulder at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan didn't seem to notice him. Qui-Gon silently took in Obi-Wan's appearance for the first time. The boy's hair was matted, his face caked with sweat and dirt, his clothes stained with blood, ripped and singed in places. His hands were fidgeting; Qui-Gon took in the bloody knuckles, the torn and swollen fingertips. '_Like he had been clawing his way out of something,'_ Qui-Gon sadly realized.

Despite this, Obi-Wan almost appeared collected, or rather, as Qui-Gon thought, empty. Obi-Wan was devoid of emotion not because of concentration but because he simply had none of it left in him. The boy was drained in more ways than one.

Qui-Gon turned back to Adi Gallia. "We should report back immediately."

Adi Gallia nodded. "There will be many questions, I imagine." The look in her eyes reflected Qui-Gon's deepening concern towards Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon rubbed his face in weariness and leaned on his elbow in the seat.

* * *

"Obi-Wan?" Siri whispered tentatively.

The boy blinked a few times, as if coming out of a deep haze. He slowly registered his name and turned to Siri, belatedly acknowledging her.

"What happened? Do you know what happened to those people?"

Obi-Wan swallowed and stared at his trembling hands. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't know," he repeated, shaking his head back and forth. "It just happened. And then it was too late to do anything about it. So we ran to keep ahead of it. Only it caught up with us, just like it always does."

Siri blinked, her frown deepening as Obi-Wan rambled on. She couldn't comprehend his words; she could barely reconcile the boy in front of her as the same one that had been well known at the Jedi Temple for his intelligence and cordiality. She looked down at her own hands, embarrassed for him and ashamed of herself for feeling so. She inhaled deeply, seeking to release the emotions she had been taught to suppress but found it difficult to find serenity in the presence of this boy who had lived through the nightmare of Melida/Daan.

Exhaustion was creeping up on Obi-Wan. The days without sleep or food had finally registered in his body. His eyelids grew increasingly heavy. With a resigned sigh, he settled into the chair and let his wearied head fall to his shoulder.

* * *

Sometime later, Qui-Gon stopped in front of Obi-Wan. Siri had been dozing, but was now watching the tall Jedi Master with one eye. Qui-Gon seemed to be contemplating the boy slumped in the seat. He stood with his hands listlessly by his sides, his eyebrows knitted together on his forehead. Finally, he moved to the compartments on the wall of the ship, opening and closing each one until he found what he was looking for.

He placed the warm blanket on Obi-Wan, carefully tucking it underneath his chin and around the boy's limbs. Then he went back into the cockpit and did not emerge again until they were close to Coruscant.


	6. Nara

Blood was rushing in his ears, muffling the sound of rustling movement behind him. His knees felt weak; the tips of his fingertips were frozen. The vision before him fell in and out of focus, blurring with tears and then becoming strikingly clear when he blinked. '_She's dead,' _he thought over and over.

He took a step towards her crumpled and bloody body, stretching out his hand. He fell to his knees, barely feeling the impact his legs made with the wooden floor. His shaky hand touched her shoulder, pawing at it, and then clasping it tightly. He was crying now, tears streaming down his face. He impatiently wiped them away with the dirty sleeve of his tunic.

"Cerasi," he breathed.

Her eyes snapped open. Obi-Wan started, instantly drawing his hand away and backing onto his heels. Her head slowly turned to look up at him. The blood that had been flowing from the gaping wound in her neck had stemmed to a thin trickle, allowing a fuller view of the torn flesh and muscles, a mangled mess of gore that no one could have possibly lived through.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly under his bewilderment. "Cerasi?"

She grinned at him, showing a mouthful of bloody teeth. Her eyes were not the vibrant blue he remembered; they were darkened, although he could not see the colour under the poor light in the room.

"I'll get help," Obi-Wan said.

A strong hand clamped down on his wrist. He stared at the hand, fixated by the odd colour of it, like a greenish mould. He looked back up and gasped at the face of Cerasi. Her eyes were non-existent, just empty sockets where they had once been. The flesh on her face was decomposing before his eyes, like dark wrinkled leather stretched over bones. His heart rate quickened under a growing panic and his breath came out in gasps. He began to claw at the hand holding him captive.

"You don't need to go anywhere, Obi-Wan." The voice did not belong to Cerasi. It belonged to several different voices, of different sex, different ages, and different victims. "You're here with us forever."

* * *

He awoke with a start, breath hitching in his throat and limbs jerking. There was a hand on his shoulder. His eyes travelled up the arm and into the frowning face of Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon withdrew his hand.

"You were dreaming," he announced.

Obi-Wan's mouth opened and hung there in silence. He blinked, shaking away the remnants of his dream but found it difficult to focus on the present. Before he had a chance to respond to Qui-Gon, the tall Jedi had already walked away. Obi-Wan ran a trembling hand over his face and through his matted hair.

"Dreaming," he repeated to himself as he let his head drop back into the seat.

* * *

They did not go to the Jedi Temple. Instead, they landed in front of Coruscant's Health Authority Building and remained on the landing pad until two beings in bio-hazard suits pulled a long tube up to the entrance of the ship and secured it airtight.

Adi Gallia turned in the captain's seat to address the others. "We will have to be quarantined. I doubt it will be for very long, but we must take the necessary precautions."

Qui-Gon nodded and stood by the airlock, patiently folding his arms into his sleeves. Siri looked uncomfortable at the prospect of being quarantined but dutifully stood by her Master's side. Obi-Wan was the last to stand, gingerly testing his weight on his ankle and staying at the back of the group. He couldn't help but turn his head to the side to look in the back of the ship. A thin sheet of metallic material covered her body but he could still see the outline of her form. One hand had slipped off the table and was lying exposed. Obi-Wan longed to run over to her, to hold her hand and weep in it and apologize a million times over. Instead he stared at her body until he registered the hand on his shoulder.

Slowly, he looked into Qui-Gon's face. Qui-Gon's eyes briefly flickered over Cerasi's body before resting again on Obi-Wan. "Come, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan followed the rest of the group but did not feel a part of them. They were calm as they answered all questions until the questions were directed at Obi-Wan. When it became clear that Obi-Wan had been on the planet for much longer, he was physically led away from the group by two workers covered from head to toe in white suits. Qui-Gon made a move to follow but a firm hand was planted on his chest. "He needs more treatment than you," the worker explained. Resignedly, Qui-Gon followed the others down a sterile-looking hallway and away from Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to be led away and into a room surrounded by glass windows. "We'll need your clothes and anything else you've had in your possession," the mechanical voice instructed. Obi-Wan nodded and shed his clothes and his belt, occasionally wincing as the cloth brushed over old, untreated wounds. The clothes and everything else would be incinerated, but he didn't mind. The only material possession he had ever valued had been his lightsaber, and he had given that up to Qui-Gon when he had made his fateful decision to disobey his Master and stay on Melida/Daan. The thought made him cringe with regret.

He was not prepared for the hot spray of water that assaulted him from all sides of the room, but he wasn't surprised by it either. The water smelled funny, like an astringent or cleaner. It tingled on his skin for long afterwards. His own touch felt raw on his bare arms, like the first layer of his skin had been scrubbed away.

He was dressed in a white tunic and pants, and led into a spherical room with complicated looking equipment that he could not even guess the purpose of. They had him sit on a slim bed and left him alone. Two droids entered, with crude looking arms and cold faces. He sat patiently while they pricked him to take samples of his blood. They attached small boxes to his skin that blinked red lights and made clicking noises as they received information of his vital organs remotely. They asked him questions for hours on end, clarifying responses over and over in their tinny voices. Then they too left.

A humanoid entered, wearing a protective shield over her aqua-coloured face. She instructed him to lie down on the bed. She patted the bed with one gloved hand while the other grasped his shoulder encouragingly. Obi-Wan did as commanded and squinted under the bright light shining directly overhead. She was moving something large and square over top of him, blissfully in the path of the light. She was scanning him from his toes to his head, touching the screen and recording the results in a datapad. When she finished, she pushed the scanner back and welcomed him to sit up again.

"We need to monitor you overnight. You will stay in this room. Once you have been cleared, you will be free to go."

Obi-Wan nodded and folded his hands in his lap. The medic didn't move. She touched his face with the back of her gloved hand.

"It's over now," she said gently.

She left and dimmed the lights as she went out, which he supposed was a gesture meant to entice him into rest.

* * *

He was alone. He was in a field of long grass and he was utterly alone. He smiled pleasantly at the thought and stretched out his hands over the grass, letting the tops tickle his palm and fingers. He walked leisurely through the field, feeling the warm sun on his face and watching mesmerized as the temperate breeze rippled through the stalks of grass gracefully. He felt at peace here; he could not feel anyone else, hear anything at all or see any signs of civilization. He was not afraid of being alone.

How long he had lingered in that field he would never know. Time did not seem to matter here, wherever "here" was. He vaguely thought this place may be familiar, but he didn't care enough to spend much time pondering the thought.

He sat down, grinning as the grass completely covered his head. He felt giddy, almost like a child again, hiding from his responsibilities in a ridiculously simple spot. He fell back, folding his hands underneath his head and watched the sun lazily make its way across the greenish-blue sky. He closed his eyes.

When he opened them, the sun had disappeared. The smell of smoke stung his nose. He sat up with a start, looking wildly around him. The wind had picked up; the grass was whipping back and forth under the strength of it. He stood up, turning around and studying his surroundings with a fearful eye. He was now painfully aware of how alone he was.

The sounds came from both sides of him. The growling; the moaning; the pain-filled cries of the infected. They were all around him, but he couldn't see them. The grass was moving in odd ways, as if being pushed over from the bottom. Things were slithering over the ground like reptiles, reaching for his ankles. He was surrounded; even if he tried to run, they were everywhere. He screamed, frustration and fear bubbling over him uncontrollably. The mottled grey hands of the dead were on his legs now, pulling him down, through the grass and dirt, down through the earth where more hands clawed at him from all sides, ripping his clothes and tearing at his skin, pulling him apart.

He awoke with a gasp, sitting upright in his bed and sweating profusely. The heart rate monitor beside him was beeping incessantly. He rubbed his face, letting his hand linger over his eyes. He exhaled deeply and his body shuddered in response. With an exhausted sigh, he fell back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. He didn't bother with sleep again that night.


	7. Walls

He found himself answering the same questions to the Jedi Council that he had already answered to the Coruscant Health Authorities. However, he found himself under a different sort of scrutiny than the previous rounds of questioning had brought. They regarded him with a deeper interest, taking stock not just of his answers but the way he answered, the way his eyes flickered down at his feet during some of the descriptions, the way his hands curled and his nails dug into his palms, and the way his voice wavered while he was describing the last part of his story. A few times, the Masters shot concerned glances to each other, particularly when Obi-Wan was describing how the disease manifested in new victims.

"20 seconds?" Depo Billaba asked.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Sometimes quicker. But generally within 20 seconds the convulsions would start, followed by the ocular reaction."

"Ocular reaction?" Mace Windu repeated.

Obi-Wan's hands fidgeted with the hem of his new woollen tunic. "The eyes change. Yellow irises on red corneas." He shrugged slightly. "I suppose it made them easier to pick out that way. You could always tell an infected by their eyes and the way they moved. But if you were close enough to see their eyes, sometimes it was too late."

"How did you deal with the infected?"

The question jolted Obi-Wan. He did not even register which Master had asked the question. "How did I 'deal' with them, Master?"

12 blank expressions stared back at him.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "We couldn't…there was no way to stop them. You couldn't sit them down and reason with them. You couldn't capture them…you either tried to stay ahead of them or you had to…" Obi-Wan stopped and stared at the floor. "They didn't feel pain. They didn't feel anything. The only way to stop them was…" He looked up at the Council with pleading eyes.

"How many?" Yaddle asked. "The lives of how many, did you take?"

Obi-Wan's heart plummeted in his chest. "I don't know. I lost count," he said bitterly.

Silence pervaded the room. Obi-Wan's head hung deeply.

"I beg the Jedi Council to allow Obi-Wan time to heal," Qui-Gon interjected. The tall man had been standing silently behind Obi-Wan throughout the hearing. "The boy has suffered much. He deserves a reprieve."

"Take his side, do you," Yoda pointed out, his ears twitching upwards. "Thought you did not care for the fate of your former Padawan, did I?"

Qui-Gon visibly flinched.

"There is also the matter of Obi-Wan's status as a Jedi learner to take into consideration," Mace Windu pointed out. "You left the Order, Obi-Wan Kenobi." He looked sternly into Obi-Wan's face.

"I was wrong," Obi-Wan said quietly. His eyes trailed downwards again. "I was very wrong."

"Cannot change the past, can we. The present, we must live with." Yoda sighed and scratched his chin with a diminutive claw. "Go to your quarters, you will. Rest, you will be given. Discuss further, we shall."

Obi-Wan bowed deeply and exited, Qui-Gon following suit. When they were gone, Mace turned to Yoda and gave him a meaningful look. Yoda sighed again and shook his head as he contemplatively tapped on the floor with his knotted stick.

* * *

They rode the turbolift together in silence. The multitude of floors whizzed by in flashes of light across Obi-Wan's face. The lift slowed to stop as it came upon the junior ward of the Temple. Obi-Wan made to leave but Qui-Gon's voice stopped him just outside the lift.

"Will you be alright?"

Obi-Wan considered the thought before turning his shoulders to his former Master, without actually looking at him. "I don't know," he truthfully answered. He walked away from Qui-Gon in the direction of his old room.


	8. Hide and Seek

* * *

He dimly took stock of the silent and furtive glances that other pupils stole at him as he walked the hallways. Who had once felt like classmates now felt like strangers; what had once seemed like home was now a distant and alien place. The hallways felt cold rather than awe-inspiring as they had been on his first day to the Temple. He had been so excited, so terrified, but most of all, so hopeful on that day.

There was someone running towards him. Obi-Wan stopped dead in his tracks and without realizing it, his hand drifted to his side where a lightsaber should have been. The person similarly came to a jarring halt, and Obi-Wan read the surprise and sadness in the expression. He blinked, and the momentary confusion drifted away, only to be replaced by a slight grimace.

"Bant," he said.

For a second, her bottom lip trembled as if she might cry but she recovered with a forced smile, far happier than it should have been. "Obi-Wan!" She cried before she threw her arms around his neck and drew him close.

The embrace felt awkward. Obi-Wan's hands slowly made their way to her back, giving her a faltering squeeze. She finally let him go and studied him intently, searching his face with sad yet hopeful eyes. His empty eyes stared back at her.

"Oh Obi-Wan," she sighed.

He immediately felt bad, as though he had disappointed her somehow. She must have caught this emotion, because she forced a smile back onto her face as though nothing had changed over the past months. She took his hand and began to lead him away from the hallway filled with whispering pupils, casting wide-eyed glances in their direction.

"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan asked as he let himself be led by Bant.

"Where we always go," she said cheerfully. She threw a glance at him over her shoulder. "Have you been gone that long?"

"Feels like it," Obi-Wan mumbled to himself.

* * *

From a pedway overlooking the expansive hall, Yoda stood behind the protective glass with both hands clutched on top of his walking stick. His long ears flickered downwards.

"What are your thoughts?" A deep voice asked him from behind. Mace Windu stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his legs far apart.

Yoda closed his eyes and murmured in the back of his throat. "Uncertain, the future is. A greater part to play in this, the boy will have."

Mace Windu watched the two Padawans leave together, the little Mon Calamari girl leading a reluctant Obi-Wan away. "Do you think this particular course of action will be wise?"

Yoda's ears perked up. "Wise? No. But what is necessary, the Force does."

Mace nodded solemnly and left the venerable Jedi Master to his privacy.

* * *

His face was met with a fine spray of mist from the waterfall. He closed his eyes and relished the feel of the cool droplets on his cheeks and forehead.

"Does it feel familiar yet?" Bant asked from his side.

He nodded and slowly opened his eyes. "I don't know why I stopped thinking of this place," he said.

Bant frowned. "What did you think about when you were there, Obi-Wan?"

He shuddered and closed his eyes. "I tried not think about anything, or anyone," he said while shaking his head. There was long pause before he continued, almost in a whisper. "I was afraid to sleep."

Bant's eyes filled with tears of compassion. She took one of his hands into hers and stroked it absently. "You don't need to be afraid anymore. You're safe here, where you belong."

Obi-Wan looked at her. "I don't know if I belong here anymore, Bant. I left the Jedi Order. I left it for that place, and now I'm different because of it."

Bant resolutely shook her head. "No. No, you're not different. You're still Obi-Wan-"

Obi-Wan grasped her shoulders and cut her off. "I killed people Bant. You don't know what I've done."

Bant blinked the tears from her eyes. "You did it to survive," she reasoned.

"I killed a child, Bant. A little girl. I was supposed to protect her, and instead I killed her. I hit her in the head with a metal pipe until she stopped moving." He let go of Bant's shoulders and turned away from her, crossing his arms over his chest. "And she wasn't the only one."

Obi-Wan could feel the wave of horror radiate off of Bant, only to be replaced by a growing sense of helplessness in easing her friend's suffering and guilt. Obi-Wan shrugged the emotions off. "I'm not the same, Bant. There's nothing you or anyone else can do to change that." He turned to her, saw the distressed tears streaming down her face but felt nothing in his own demeanour. "I brought this on myself."

He left the waterfall and Bant, and did not look back.

* * *

He slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning yet never settling into a comfortable rest. When he did drift off to sleep, he would awaken with a jolt, unsure of what had awoken him. He finally gave up on sleep and sat up in bed with his arms clasped around his knees, trying to think of anything else than what his mind naturally gravitated towards. At some point, he fell deeply asleep, arms and legs splayed in all different directions. But he awoke again, this time with a violent jolt. He was panting and sweating profusely, and before he could remember the dream, he was off the bed and running for the refresher, feeling the nausea bubbling to the surface with an unforeseen rapidity. He was heaving until his eyes watered and when it was over he fell back against the wall and covered his eyes with his hand and wished that he could forget.


	9. Disease

He awoke that morning with the feeling of dread in his stomach. As he dressed, as he ate and as he attempted meditation, he could feel the dread growing inside of him, extending in all directions until it reached the tips of his fingertips like a weed. He had stood on the rooftop gardens alone, watching the sun descend and bathing Coruscant in a tangerine glow, the lights of the city lighting up one by one until the entire city was a haze of gleaming white lights, dotted here and there by transport vessels buzzing in between the buildings like winged insects. He could feel the unshakeable fear growing inside of him, and at the same time, he felt tired resignation. He would not fight the will of the Council. With a deep sigh, he turned away from the balcony and returned to his room.

He was sitting on his bed, fully dressed with his robe wound around him protectively. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the one life force that he knew would be approaching any moment. In his mind, he singled out the slow, steady footsteps of his former master as they led to his door. Obi-Wan stood and pushed the release button. On the other side, Qui-Gon was frozen with his finger in mid-air, about to hit the sound buzzer to Obi-Wan's door, but never having accomplished the act. After his momentary surprise, Qui-Gon settled himself by pulling his arms together in his robe. He regarded Obi-Wan calmly.

"The Council requests our presence," Qui-Gon informed.

Obi-Wan stared past Qui-Gon's form and nodded mutely. Qui-Gon's eyebrow quirked upwards. He took stock of the boy and noted that the serenity Obi-Wan attempted to project was just that; an act. Something else was etched into his face, a mixture of pain and anxiety. Qui-Gon's hands tensed inside his robe.

Qui-Gon turned away and led Obi-Wan to the lifts at the end of the long hallway. Once inside and alone, Obi-Wan finally spoke for the first time. "They're sending me back there, aren't they?"

Qui-Gon's nerves jumped at the suggestion. He looked down at Obi-Wan and resolutely shook his head. "No," he answered hesitatingly, realizing how oddly hollow his reply sounded. "No." He said more forcefully. "There would be no logic in sending you back there. You are mistaken."

There was an awkward pause while Qui-Gon fought to believe his own words and Obi-Wan continued to swallow the fear that was bubbling up into his throat the closer they approached the Council room. Qui-Gon turned and studied him, reaching out with the Force to read him. A seeping cold formed in his gut when he read nothing; no emotion, no inner conflict at all resonating from the boy. Qui-Gon felt a simmering anger awaken in his gut that began to grow the closer they came to the Council room.

They bowed deeply upon entry and stood side by side with hands respectfully clasped in front of them while they were evenly scrutinized by the Council members. Yoda stared at Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan in return tried to control the slight tremble in his limbs.

"Know why we have summoned you here, do you?"

Obi-Wan bit his lip and nodded, staring at the warm beige tile beneath his feet.

Qui-Gon glanced furtively back and forth between Obi-Wan and Yoda. Realizing that Obi-Wan's instincts had been correct all along, he rashly interjected. "You cannot be serious," he said as he stepped towards them, throwing his hands into the air. "You are not sending him back there!"

Ki Ad Mundi frowned at Qui-Gon. "You will contain yourself, Qui-Gon Jinn, or you will leave these premises."

Qui-Gon's mouth dropped. His lungs failed to breathe for a moment as he gauged the nonplussed faces of the Council. Frustrated and bewildered by this sudden turn of events, he shook his head as he stepped back to stand beside Obi-Wan once again.

"Afraid, are you?" Yoda pressed on.

Obi-Wan looked up and saw something in Yoda's eyes that he had never registered before; sadness. He looked around the Council and read the same emotion coming from all the Masters. Suddenly, his fear disappeared, to be replaced by acquiescence.

"I don't want to go back," he whispered. "But I will, if that is what you wish."

"The decision is ultimately yours. We will not send you if do not want to go," Mace Windu said, leaning forward in his chair to study the boy intently. "However, the Health Authority believes they have found a cure."

Obi-Wan looked up in surprise. "How…how is that possible?" He stammered.

"Cerasi's death was not in vain," Depo Billaba said kindly. "Her blood held the key."

Obi-Wan sighed and bowed his head while he considered the words of the Council. Finally, he nodded and held his head up high, with confidence. "I will go back."

Qui-Gon's head whipped to the side to look at Obi-Wan.

He weighed the boy's words and with a deep sigh, realized that he would not be able to stop the boy, or the Council for that matter. Qui-Gon took a step forward and bowed to the Council. "I request the Council allow me to accompany Obi-Wan back to Melida/Daan."

Yoda's ears perked up as a smile graced his wrinkled face. "Ooohh. Considered this, the Council did not. In agreement, the Council is."

Qui-Gon frowned at Yoda and then at the rest of the Council who unabashedly pretended along with Yoda that they had not thought of that all along. Qui-Gon made some unfavourable mutterings under his breath as he bowed before the Council again and took his leave alongside Obi-Wan.

Inside the lift, Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan.

"Obi-Wan, it's alright to be afraid," Qui-Gon said gently.

Obi-Wan stared at the lift doors. "I'm not afraid, Master Qui-Gon," he said quietly.

Qui-Gon believed him, but for all the wrong reasons.


	10. Walking

Qui-Gon was at his door early; Obi-Wan was still readying his pack when the harsh buzz of his door made him jump. He rushed to open the door to allow Qui-Gon in, then quickly returned to his packing. Qui-Gon stood silently at the door, watching Obi-Wan's hurried movements. He looked around the room, noting the utter lack of personal effects. Jedi were not supposed to place great measure upon material things, but it was odd to live in a room completely devoid of anything. A loud snap focused Qui-Gon's attention on Obi-Wan once more, as he pounded the top of his closed case for good measure and looked up with worried eyes.

"You've forgotten something," Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I knew it," he muttered. He started ransacking his drawers, and when that didn't merit anything, he began to strip the bed of its sheets. When nothing turned up, he stood confounded with one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. Then he looked at Qui-Gon.

Every movement in his body stilled when he saw Qui-Gon's outstretched hand. In it, was his lightsaber.

"Something tells me you'll need this," Qui-Gon said quietly.

Gingerly, Obi-Wan reached for the piece of equipment that once felt so achingly familiar. He grasped the hilt and a long overdue sense of satisfaction coursed through his body at the feel of the warm metal in his hand. The weight felt perfect; the grooves in the metal felt soothing. For the first time since he had been back, Obi-Wan smiled. He gratefully looked up at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon smiled back.

"Lets go."

* * *

"I don't understand why we need the company," Obi-Wan panted as they jogged towards their awaiting transport ship. Their taxi to the Health Authority's transport station had taken a slight detour, and then an extended scenic route, before Qui-Gon gently knocked the driver out and took over the flying duties himself. The transport ship that loomed in front of them was a large model and patently one of the government's. Obi-Wan grimaced at the sight of it.

"This is not a Jedi mission," Qui-Gon patiently explained. "Technically, we are the guests. The serum is the government's invention. They want to see it through. We are merely the advisors."

Obi-Wan stopped. Qui-Gon correspondingly halted and turned to look at Obi-Wan quizzically. "Advisors?" Obi-Wan repeated. "That's why I'm going back?"

Qui-Gon stepped towards him and laid a friendly hand on his shoulder. "You have the most valuable information for this mission, Obi-Wan. You know the planet. You have seen the effects of the disease firsthand. Your knowledge will be essential to the success of this mission."

Obi-Wan shook his head and looked back at Qui-Gon with a sarcastic smirk. "Do you honestly believe this will work?"

Qui-Gon inhaled deeply and nodded. "I believe it's worth the try." He gave an encouraging pat on Obi-Wan's shoulder and they were off running for the ship again.

* * *

There was energy on the ship, full of anxiety and grim expectation. There was also some excitement on the side of the soldiers that the Coruscant Health Authority had recruited to aid the Jedi in their mission. Obi-Wan watched the soldiers with a frown from where he stood across from them with his arms crossed in front and his back leaning against the wall. He was incredulous at their jovial attitude but he said nothing while they joked about getting their first kills and real action in months. A hand landed on his shoulder and Obi-Wan looked up into Qui-Gon's disapproving face.

"Come Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon to the front of the ship where the scientists and researchers readied their travel kits filled with tubes for collecting samples and vials of liquid that would supposedly "cure" the victims of the virus. Obi-Wan shook his head. Had the Health Authorities listened to nothing he had reported?

"Sixteen seconds until touch-down," the pilot's stern voice sounded over the intercom.

A flutter of nervousness took hold of Obi-Wan's stomach. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, calming himself. Rolling his shoulders back, he thumbed his lightsaber, taking comfort in its familiar weight on his side again. The ship rattled slightly as it descended through the atmosphere. The ever-present smoke was gone, now replaced by thick sheets of rain painting the atmosphere a gloomy grey. Droplets of rain splattered off the ship, echoing as they bounced off the metal. Behind him, the soldiers stood, bouncing on their heels and readying their large rifles. The ship bucked as it touched earth, then settled with a groan.

"Opening the main hatch," the pilot announced.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes.


	11. Clubbed to Death

A deceitful calm greeted them as they exited the ship and entered the courtyard where parliament had once stood. There was no life here, no vegetation, not even scavenging animals. Obi-Wan stole a glance back at the troops and health officials who acted nonchalant about their mission.

Obi-Wan was sweating; cool perspiration was forming on his brow and traveling down his temples. A tremble had formed in his hands. He was staring at the horizon, anticipating what he knew waited for them in the forest beyond.

Qui-Gon glanced down at the teen by his side. "Clear your thoughts, Obi-Wan. Expect nothing. There is no fear."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt the familiar serenity of the Force calm his nerves and bring his focus back to the present. The tremble stopped, replaced by the comfort of the lightsaber in his hand. Qui-Gon began to walk forwards, and Obi-Wan followed confidently on his heels. The troops and researchers similarly followed suit, the previous sound of chatter dying to a hum as the soldiers became more guarded.

The first bodies were in the parliament building, mottled with the bruising of decay, limbs stiff in the air with rigour mortis and mouths forever formed in a silent scream. The smell was overpowering; the soldiers covered their noses with one hand while the other hand gripped the large rifles each one carried. The researchers seemed oblivious to the smell and immediately dropped to one knee to begin studying the corpses with morbid interest.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan continued until they were in the centre of the great hall where a black marble statue stood. Obi-Wan did not know what it represented; it looked like a body falling from the sky, with one limb gracefully extended upwards. But rather than terror residing in its face, it was a look of pure contentment and peace. It seemed wildly out of place. The water in the fountain surrounding the statue still burbled meekly; the pipes that fed it were clogged.

The hall had many branches to it and looking up, Obi-Wan could see that it had one more level too. Qui-Gon signalled to the soldiers to take up flanking positions, then quietly ordered them to split up into groups of two to scout out each hallway and to maintain constant contact with each other over their comlinks. He sent Obi-Wan with one group of soldiers, while he went with another.

The two soldiers Obi-Wan was paired up with, Valky and Bracen, looked him up and down and smirked at each other. Obi-Wan read their thoughts easily (_little punk Jedi) _but ignored the condescension. He walked past them to take the lead and the two soldiers scowled at him from behind. Their thoughts this time were a bit more crude.

The hallway looked like it had once served as a celebrated art gallery. The floors were sleek white marble streaked with silver. Black columns held up the arched coffered ceiling where natural light poured in through skylights. There were large rooms with sculptures and paintings, but many had been so neglected that they were rotting away or covered in dust. Obi-Wan's feet crunched on the dead leaves that littered the hallway. There were benches overturned throughout the hallway and odd bits of refuse. Obi-Wan wasn't sure if the mess was due to the epidemic or the war that began the epidemic. In any case, the hallway was a direct result of mass panic. The soldiers behind Obi-Wan were silent now, taking quick, measured steps; their faces hidden behind protective masks, further obscured by the large rifles held protectively in front of them. Obi-Wan walked ahead with his hand holding his lightsaber loosely to the side. There was no life in this building. Obi-Wan radioed his findings to Qui-Gon.

"Likewise, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon answered. "Head out back and wait for us there. We'll move on."

Obi-Wan tucked the small comlink into his belt and motioned to the soldiers to follow him outside.

The rain had stopped but the thick clouds continued to block the sun, cloaking the city in a grey pallor. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, smelling the air experimentally, but only detecting the musky scent of ozone following a rainfall. He wondered if the rain would help wash away the remnants of the city. He looked around, feeling outwards with the Force to see if he could detect any life at all. An empty nothingness reverberated back at him, unsettling and reassuring at the same time.

"Where are you going?"

Obi-Wan turned around at the sound of Bracen, only to find he wasn't speaking to him. The other soldier in their group, Valky, had walked a few yards away and began kicking at something on the ground. Obi-Wan frowned.

"What are you doing?" Bracen asked.

Valky ceased his kicking and looked up. "There's something down here," he pointed with his rifle to the object on the ground.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan called out to him.

The soldier shrugged, then crouched in front of the object and began tugging on it. The sound of metal scraping on concrete made Obi-Wan wince. Valky finally flung a large flat piece of circular metal out of the way. He looked up. "It looks like a sewer or something."

Something akin to horror fluttered in Obi-Wan's chest. "The tunnels," he whispered. The soldier was lowering himself into the hole as Bracen approached cautiously.

"Wait!" Obi-Wan screamed. He started to run towards them, already losing sight of Valky's head as he ducked down into the hole.

"Get out of there, you idiot!" His fellow comrade yelled at him.

Valky ignored both of them. They heard his feet splash when he touched the bottom. Both Obi-Wan and Bracen's faces were peering down at him; Bracen was glaring at his errant companion in irritation while Obi-Wan's was set in fear.

"It's clear," Valky called up.

"He has to get out of there," Obi-Wan said, the growing panic in his stomach making his words quick. "You have to make him get out of there."

"Why? What's down there?"

Obi-Wan's eyes became unfocused as he relived his memory. "That's where we were living. That's where I first encountered the infected." He fixed the other soldier with a serious stare. "You have to get him out of there."

Bracen's eyes widened behind his mask before he nodded and cupped his hands around his mouth for maximum volume. "Valky, you get out of there this second before I radio the captain and have you hauled in for endangering the mission."

Valky growled something unintelligible at them before obliging, climbing back up the metal rungs in a huff. Obi-Wan sighed in relief. Then Valky stopped on the ladder and reached for his rifle.

"What is it?" Bracen asked.

Silence pervaded the space of a few minutes while Obi-Wan held his breath and watched Valky closely. "I thought I heard something," Valky finally answered. He replaced his rifle at his side and clutched the rungs of the ladder once again. Bracen straightened, staring down the hole at Valky with his hands on his hips and shaking his head.

"You're a different kind of stupid, you know that Valky? Just get your ass out of there."

Obi-Wan was still watching the hole carefully. He didn't feel the other life form approaching until it was already on top of Bracen. Bracen was knocked off his feet, sent sprawling into the dirt with a yelp. Obi-Wan jumped to his feet and ignited his lightsaber. Bracen was being dragged away, kicking and screaming as he tried to grapple with whatever was behind him, choking him with something wrapped around his neck. Obi-Wan was running after them, surprised by the thing's speed and strength, to be able to outrun him while dragging a fully-grown man. Valky was screaming at them from inside the tunnel, demanding to know what was going on, clambering to get to the top sooner. Obi-Wan pumped his legs, calling on every reserve of strength to make him faster. Bracen was choking, coughing and gasping for air. His face was turning a bright shade of red. There was a wall ahead of them, Obi-Wan knew instinctively that there was no way they could scale it. He would have the person trapped.

To his utter shock, the person scrambled up the wall, still dragging Bracen. Bracen was barely conscious, unable to fight back. The person left Bracen lying prone on top of the wall and jumped back down to face Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan stood ready, knees bent and loose, his lightsaber fully extended in front of him. The person who stood before him was not much bigger than he was, but his clothes were ragged and covered in muck, hanging limply off his body. His hair was plastered to his scalp with filth; his face was covered in dirt and grime. Obi-Wan could barely make out the facial features. Red eyes darted at him. Then Obi-Wan felt his blood run cold when the person smiled at him.

"Nield," Obi-Wan whispered.

* * *

Qui-Gon felt the abrupt change in emotion in his former Padawan. As achingly real as if it were his own emotions running rampant, Qui-Gon experienced the physical changes as well; his pulse quickened and a cold sweat formed on his hairline. "Something is wrong," he whispered under his breath.

"What's that sir?" One of the soldiers asked.

Qui-Gon's head snapped up. "We have to go, now!" he urged. Then he was running through the building. His powerful strides carried him well past the trained Republic soldiers who struggled to keep up with the long cloak billowing in front of them. He burst through the back doors, flinging them open and pausing to take in his surroundings, scanning the deadened streets for any sign of Obi-Wan.

"Hey!" someone yelled.

Whipping his head to the side, Qui-Gon saw the soldier known as Valky poking his head up through a hole in the ground. He was waving at them, then pointing off into the distance. "We have to go, they've got-"

Then he disappeared into the hole. For a stunned moment, no one moved. One of the soldiers behind Qui-Gon moved to his side, then cautiously moved towards the hole. Pointing his rifle into the hole, he peered down it and called out to Valky. Hearing and seeing nothing, he straightened to look at the others. Qui-Gon wore a deep frown, his eyebrows knitted firmly together.

"He's gone," the soldier shrugged.

"No he's not," Qui-Gon whispered.

The other soldier was starting to climb down the shaft into the tunnel. Qui-Gon held his hand out. "Don't go in there," he warned.

The soldier looked at him dimly. "But Valky's down there," he reasoned. As soon as the words left his mouth, something grabbed his leg. With a startled yelp, the soldier clung to the railings while he tried to dislodge whatever was on his leg. "There's something down here!" he yelled to the others.

The other soldiers and researchers rushed to his aid, but suddenly the soldier was screaming, torn free from his hold and dragged into the tunnel. Everyone broke into a run towards the hole.

"What the hell was that?!" someone yelled.

Qui-Gon now knew the reason for Obi-Wan's panic. "It's the infected," Qui-Gon said. He started scanning the horizon urgently. "We need to find Obi-Wan and the others."

"What about them?" one of the scientists asked while gesturing to the tunnel entrance.

Grimly, Qui-Gon glanced down. "Leave them." He studied the various faces that stared back at him in shock, panic and anger. "Do not go down there," he ordered as he walked away from them.

* * *

Obi-Wan could not help the lump that formed in his throat when he gazed at the boy he had become so close to, who now resembled a feral wraith instead of human teenager. "Nield," he whispered, approaching the boy cautiously slow. "Do you remember me? Can you understand anything I'm saying?"

Nield remained where he was, slightly hunched over, making odd grunting noises under his breath. Then he smiled at Obi-Wan, teeth stained a ruddy-brown.

Obi-Wan glanced nervously at the unconscious Bracen, lying on top of the aged stonewall. "I need to get him down Nield. And you're going to let me," he urged Nield with a helping of the Force, willing his suggestive words to reach Nield's mind, or what was left of it. He crept towards the wall, one eye still watchful on Nield. His left arm snaked up the wall, reaching for Bracen's pant leg. He caught a tiny bit of fabric in his fingers. He started to tug.

Nield screamed, an unearthly shattering scream that seemed to pierce Obi-Wan's insides. He instantly let go of Bracen's uniform and stood at attention on Nield, holding his lightsaber out in front of him protectively. Nield's head jerked back and forth, as if measuring Obi-Wan up. Obi-Wan could hear something, the sound of stones grating on each other, from the other side of the wall. There was something or someone on the other side, but he dared not take his attention off of Nield. He did not want to kill his friend, but he knew he couldn't risk the life of the soldier either.

The decision was made for Obi-Wan when Bracen's body was suddenly grabbed by multiple hands and flipped over the top of the wall. Without another thought, Obi-Wan gathered the Force into his legs and jumped to the top, horrified by the sight of a few dozen infected adults and children, dragging the soldier away. He leapt off the wall and raced after them.

He was so close, so mind-numbingly close to reaching them when he heard Nield scream behind him. He stopped, glancing back quickly to where Nield was standing on the wall, wailing and pointing at him. Confusion stole Obi-Wan's concentration away. He had never seen them act like this before. Then he realized that the others had stopped as well, and only now seemed to be aware of his presence.

Dread grew in the pit of his stomach.

_Nield set up a trap for me._


	12. Anywhere in the World

Obi-Wan swore silently, chiding himself for foolishly falling into a trap. The horde in front of him blinked and made gurgling noises in the back of their throats. Their arms twitched uncontrollably. They seemed to be gauging him; likewise, he was considering his own options. Bracen was still over there, behind the infected crowd, presumably alive. To get to the unconscious soldier, Obi-Wan would have to hack his way through the people; a thought he didn't particularly relish. Nield was behind him.

Nield made the choice for him. He howled like a wild beast and the crowd surged towards Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber up and charged back. Spinning and ducking, Obi-Wan sliced through limbs and torsos, making his way towards the fallen soldier. Hands grabbed at him from every side. The dying gurgled and groaned as they fell, still making feeble attempts to paw at him.

He was getting closer, he could feel Bracen breathing, he could see him lying prone beyond the bodies that still barred his way. He was so achingly close to achieving his goal. But then he saw movement, something he had overlooked when he was immersed in the crowd. There were children, infected children that had been laying in wait amongst the long grasses that had grown wildly over their neglected years. They were moving, dragging themselves across the ground on their bellies.

"No!" Obi-Wan screamed in frustration.

Oblivious to his cries, the infected children continued onwards, reaching for the soldier, yanking at his protective helmet and mask. Bracen was beginning to wake up, but in a semi-lucid haze he raised his arms, seeking help to get back on his feet. One of the children watched his arm wave lazily as if in a trance. The helmet came off. Bracen opened his eyes painfully, staring back into the scarred and bloodied face of an infected girl. Sickened realization coursed through his blood and he barely had time to let out a mumbled scream before the child vomited into his face.

Obi-Wan bellowed at the small girl, venting his frustration at having been robbed the chance to save the soldier.

Panting, wiping the sweat from his brow, Obi-Wan took stock of the mutilated bodies that surrounded him. Guilt, anger, overwhelming sadness flitted through his mind fleetingly, only to be replaced by a feeling of emptiness. There was nothing here but a sea of death. Behind him, Bracen was convulsing and gurgling. Obi-Wan knew it would only be a matter of seconds before he turned.

A thought struck Obi-Wan; he had been given a few vials of the supposed cure. Digging around in the large brown pouch on his belt, Obi-Wan grasped a slim cylinder with an opaque liquid swirling gracefully. Obi-Wan stared at it, pondering the chance of his success and immediately decided that the risk of failure was better than nothing at all.

He rushed towards the children and Bracen, brandishing his lightsaber and yelling unintelligibly at them, hoping to scare them away. But the children felt no fear and instead hissed at him while remaining protective over Bracen as he jerked uncontrollably. Obi-Wan did not have enough serum for them. He sent up a silent plea to the Force to take them away quickly as he brought his lightsaber down upon them.

Gripping the top of the vial with his teeth and spitting out the protective cover, Obi-Wan plunged the needle-point deep into Bracens neck. The convulsions stopped. Bracen's body relaxed. Hope flared in Obi-Wan. Then the soldiers eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body seized. Obi-Wan fumbled around, trying to feel for Bracen's pulse through his neck. The soldiers heart was beating too quickly and erratically.

"No, no, no..." Obi-Wan mumbled as he searched his pouches for something, anything that would control the man's heart rate. Then it stopped altogether. Everything stilled in Obi-Wan's body. The Force ghosted past him, signalling the final breath of the fallen soldier. Obi-Wan closed Bracen's eyelids and slowly rose to his feet.

He looked back at the stone wall where Nield stood, silently now, curiously observing Obi-Wan's actions. Obi-Wan began to walk towards Nield. The former friend grinned wildly at him. Obi-Wan glared back and started to run. Nield crouched down, anticipating the speeding Jedi running full-tilt towards him. With a guttural howl, not unlike the noise the infected usually made, Obi-Wan charged at the fence and Nield, catching him in the chest and forcing him off the top. The two landed in a heap, with Nield taking the brunt of the tackle and the fall. Obi-Wan jumped off the boy and stood gasping at him.

"What are you?" Obi-Wan breathed. "What exactly have you become?"

Nield slowly made his way to his knees, crawling defensively away from Obi-Wan. He growled at him.

"What is it you want with me?" Obi-Wan demanded with outstretched arms.

Nield stood upright and stared at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan concentrated, using the Force to try to read what was behind those unearthly red eyes. A vortex of emotions was thrust back at him; pain and suffering, humiliation, terror and rage, uncontrollable rage, that churned in the boy's blood. But they were human emotions, every one of them.

Obi-Wan felt something well up behind his eyes. "Youre still human," he whispered.

Nield lifted his chin as if acknowledging Obi-Wan's comments. Then he was running at Obi-Wan, howling, his arms reaching for Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan aimed his lightsaber at Nield's chest. Nield continued forward, ignorant and uncaring of the assured impalement if he continued. The lightsaber drove through Nield's chest as he fell upon Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan staggered under the weight. The smell of charred flesh, Nield's flesh, made Obi-Wan gag. With a breathless gasp, Nield's face fell on Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan could not move, paralysed with remorse and sadness.

But with Herculean effort, somehow, Nield still managed to sink his teeth into Obi-Wan's flesh.

* * *

Qui-Gon was twirling his lightsaber, gracefully cutting the infected back without letting his determination fail by the sounds of their agonized wailing. The lightsaber was surprisingly an ideal weapon given the circumstances; it cauterized as it cut, making exposure to flying drops of blood minimal. The laser rifles that the soldiers employed were only useful in long distance combat. When the infected got too close, the results were disastrous.

The infected had come at them from every angle; first from the tunnels, then from the shadows of the buildings and finally, from the confines of the forest. Whatever the Council and the Health Authority had expected from the planet, Qui-Gon was sure this was far from it. Perhaps they had believed that most would have starved to death, leaving only a handful of the weak and dying to deal with. The carnage around him proved otherwise. They were hardly weak. Beyond that, they showed no fear. Even when one was felled right before them, they kept coming; even in the final throes of life, they kept trying. The soldiers were growing frustrated and fearful. The screams of their comrades and the scientists as they were swarmed by the infected and either feasted upon or turned into another infected was impacting their concentration and their ability to fire upon a crowd where a friend might be.

Qui-Gon Force-shoved an infected off of a soldier who had been screaming incoherently as he was being attacked. The infected landed a few yards away but was up again. One of the soldiers blasted a chunk out of its head with his rifle. The soldier who had been attacked was holding his neck; blood was spurting out between his fingers. He was moaning, twisting his body in response to the pain. The other soldier who had just blasted the infected had lowered his weapon and was walking towards his comrade, his other hand extended to aid his friend.

"Don't touch him!" Qui-Gon yelled in warning.

Uncertainty made the soldier hesitate and it was the split second the infected soldier needed to launch his body at him, taking the two down in a heap of arms, legs and blood.

Qui-Gon grimaced. They needed to leave this place immediately. The remaining soldiers and scientists were already retreating, shouting and motioning at him to follow as they made for the ship. But he would not leave without first finding Obi-Wan.


	13. Torn

"We have to go, now!"

The soldier had his face in Qui-Gon's, screaming at him as if Qui-Gon could not hear. A deep frown had settled across the venerable Jedi's face. He could not endanger these men's lives unnecessarily. But he would not leave without Obi-Wan.

Turning away from the soldier, he scanned the horizon again, ignoring the infected that continued to limp towards him and only focusing on that one life form he sought so desperately. Closing his eyes, he called to Obi-Wan with the Force. For a few agonizing heartbeats, nothing returned to him. His shoulders sagged. _Did he lose him already?_

Then he felt something, tenuous at first, but growing stronger. Qui-Gon spun around and spotted his former Padawan. He was staggering, his hand clutching his left shoulder. Blood was seeping between his fingertips. Qui-Gon's eyes widened as he took in the gaping wound on Obi-Wan's shoulder. He jogged towards him. Obi-Wan took a panicked step back. Qui-Gon stopped and looked questioningly at Obi-Wan.

"It's a bite," Obi-Wan grimly informed him.

Shock gripped at Qui-Gon's heart. "We'll get the antidote," he said urgently.

Obi-Wan shook his head. His voice wavered. "It doesn't work," he said quietly.

Qui-Gon took another step towards him and Obi-Wan stumbled back. "Don't come near me!" He shouted.

Qui-Gon stopped, his hand still raised towards Obi-Wan. "Let me help," he coaxed.

Obi-Wan was shaking his head furiously back and forth. "You can't," he whispered. Then he looked up, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. "Kill me."

It was Qui-Gon's turn to shake his head. "No. This is not the way," he said resolutely.

A snarl took over Obi-Wan's face. "Do it!" He ordered. "You know it's the only way!"

Qui-Gon shook his head again. "I won't."

Obi-Wan felt as near as he ever had to being hysterical. His heart thumped wildly in his chest; he was almost gasping for air. Panicked thoughts and ideas raced through his head, colliding against each other and showing him no certain path to take that would not end in death. Resignation settled in his eyes as he reached for his lightsaber. "Then I'll do it myself."

The lightsaber flew out of his hand and towards Qui-Gon who caught it easily. "No, Obi-Wan. This is not the way," he repeated.

Obi-Wan was crying, desperation flooding his face. He fell to his knees, still clutching his wounded shoulder. Qui-Gon focused all of his soothing thoughts to Obi-Wan in an attempt to calm his panic. "Obi-Wan, think. You should be exhibiting symptoms by now. You're not," he pointed out.

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block Qui-Gon's futile attempts to pacify his terrified mind. _Of all the miserable ways to die_... He opened his eyes and saw a large pair of black boots in front of him. He squinted up into the troubled face of his former master. Qui-Gon extended a hand to Obi-Wan. "Let me help you," Qui-Gon whispered.

"Why won't you let me go?" Obi-Wan sobbed. "You know what will happen if you let me live."

Qui-Gon looked out into the swarm of infected that were still approaching. He felt as though he was trapped in a fog, and could only now hear for the first time the howls of the infected, and the urgent shouts of the soldiers and scientists behind him, standing on the ramp to the ship, urging him on with waves of their hands. He felt trapped in time, facing an uncertain future and hesitant to acknowledge it. "No, Obi-Wan," he said quietly. "I don't know what will happen. I don't know anything at all."

Without warning, he brought the butt end of his lightsaber down across Obi-Wan's temple. The boy slumped to the ground, limp and unmoving. Pocketing the lightsaber, he reached down and picked Obi-Wan up, cradling him to his chest. "Forgive me," he whispered.

He ran for the ship, towards the horrified faces of the survivors who did not miss the sight of the gaping wound on Obi-Wan's shoulder. Aghast, they could barely form the words to demand an answer from the Jedi. Feeling their fear and mistrust, Qui-Gon protectively clutched Obi-Wan closer to him. He spotted the pilot of the ship, who had stood up from his seat to cast a suspicious eye at the Jedi. "The boy stays with me," he sternly told the captain. "I will be responsible for him."

The pilot frowned, the weathered wrinkles on his face exaggerating the downward slope of his lips. "I won't endanger my crew or my passengers," he warned.

Qui-Gon nodded tersely. "We'll be in the cargo. You can lock us in, if you please."

The captain considered that for a moment, then nodded. The soldiers still grumbled their disapproval. The remaining scientists glanced at each other anxiously.

Qui-Gon entered the dark, oversized cargo bay. The only door to the cargo bay had one small, triangular window. He looked through it as the pilot closed the door manually, hearing the locks clunk loudly into place. The captain gave him one final long, studied look, as if considering Qui-Gon's chances of survival before leaving. Qui-Gon held his gaze calmly before turning away from the window and away from the wary faces of the others in the ship. They were sealed in. Qui-Gon inhaled deeply. The cargo bay was silent. They could not hear any noise from the rest of the ship aside from the low montone hum of the engines.

The floor was a thick, riveted, metal alloy; cold and unyielding. Qui-Gon knelt on the floor, wincing as his knee came to rest on the unforgiving floor. Holding Obi-Wan in one arm, he shuffled out of his robe and did his best to create a sort of nest with it to place Obi-Wan in. He shifted Obi-Wan's body, placed his hands across his chest, making the boy as comfortable as he could. Then he began to scour the bay for any medical supplies.

The cargo shipments rattled against each other as the ship ascended into the atmosphere. Qui-Gon sighed. Their mission could not have been more disastrous than it was. In his own mind, even if they were not able to save any of the infected, he had hoped rather futilely that it might bring some sort of closure to Obi-Wan. That at least making an effort at rescue would somehow assuage Obi-Wan's feelings of guilt, and in a way, his own feelings of guilt for leaving Obi-Wan there in the first place. He had been proven horribly wrong.

He spied a small container attached the wall. In it he found a meagre amount of medical supplies, mostly to clean up minor scrapes, but it would have to do. Kneeling beside Obi-Wan, he ripped open the bloodied sleeve, grimacing at the sight of mangled flesh torn by blunt, human teeth. He doused the wound with water, doing his best to clean it out even though he knew the damage had already been done. He packed the wound with as much bacta gel as he could find, then wrapped his shoulder tightly with fresh gauze.

Frustration gnawed at him, an emotion born out of a feeling of helplessness. What if he could not stop the infection? What if Obi-Wan turned?

Shaking his head quickly, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and released his anxieties in one long exhale. Feeling his limbs relax, he settled into a cross-legged stance, hands resting lithely on his knees. He began to meditate, taking himself away from the boy he may or may not be able to help, away from the cargo bay, the ship and Melida/Daan altogether. He left his uncertainties to the Force, and allowed himself to accept whatever fate the Force had in store for him and his former padawan.

Obi-Wan began to pant as his temperature rose.


	14. Breathe

Qui-Gon rested his large, callused hand on Obi-Wan's sweaty forehead. The fever had steadily risen over the past hour. Obi-Wan's eyebrows knitted together and a soft moan escaped his lips as some part of his unconscious mind registered the cool pressure on his skin. Qui-Gon closed his eyes and concentrated on pouring positive energy into the young Jedi. He felt something block the flow of the Force. With a frown, he opened his eyes and studied his former apprentice. Whatever was happening to him was undoubtedly caused by the bite on his arm. But how the infection interplayed with the Force was bewildering to Qui-Gon. In any event, he needed to find a way to cool down Obi-Wan's body.

He had found capsules of water beside the small med-kit he had used previously; they smelt stale but they would do. Unscrewing the cap of the first capsule, he poured some of the water onto a piece of cloth he had ripped from the hem of his own cloak. He wrung out the excess water and then placed the dampened cloth on Obi-Wan's forehead.

Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open. Qui-Gon leaned over him, scrutinizing the boy's face. Obi-Wan blinked a few times, finally focusing on the older Jedi above him.

"Are we..." his hoarse voice trailed off as his muddled brain failed to form the words of the question he originally intended to ask.

"We're almost home," Qui-Gon answered gently.

Memory came back to Obi-Wan in a violent jerk of his body. He remembered the bite, his failed suicide attempt and Qui-Gon's insistence that he wasn't infected. In a panicked daze, he tried to sit up; Qui-Gon placed his hands on his chest and eased him back down.

"Where are we?" Obi-Wan frantically asked. "Where have you taken me?"

"We're on the Health Authority transport vessel. We are going back to Coruscant," Qui-Gon answered evenly.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "Are you insane? Do you know what could happen?" Obi-Wan demanded. "I'll kill everyone!" He yelled.

Qui-Gon folded his arms into the large sleeves of his robes. "You are not infected."

Obi-Wan smirked at him cynically. "You don't know that." Nonetheless, he let his head fall back to the ground in defeat.

"You are not infected," Qui-Gon repeated. Even in his own mind, Qui-Gon had to wonder for whose benefit he continued to say those words.

Obi-Wan turned his head away from Qui-Gon. An unbidden tear slipped from his eye. He irritably wiped it away. Qui-Gon felt the pain and the helplessness stream from Obi-Wan.

"Do not fear me, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently.

There was a long pause before Obi-Wan answered. "It's not you I'm afraid of."

Silence spread through the gulf between them. For nearly an hour, neither spoke. Qui-Gon continued with his meditation, although the slightest twitch from Obi-Wan made his eyes pop open. Obi-Wan tried to sleep, but found it difficult, if not impossible, with his anxiety coupled with the uncomfortable floor keeping him awake. Dread flowed through his veins, along with the effects of the fever. He reflected on why he hadn't turned yet; what was stopping the infection in him that didn't stop it in the others? Even if the symptoms had yet to take full effect, why was Qui-Gon so insistent that he was not infected?

Thinking of Qui-Gon made Obi-Wan angry. His former master was being a fool, and a careless one at that. He should know by now how the Council would react to such a brash move. Why would he risk others' safety for a Padawan he walked away from? Obi-Wan ground his teeth.

"Selfish."

Qui-Gon opened his eyes by a fraction, hearing the word mumbled quietly from Obi-Wan. "What was that?"

"You're selfish," Obi-Wan growled. "That's the only reason you brought me back."

Qui-Gon raised his chin. "I did it for you," he said quietly.

"No you didn't," Obi-Wan said with a choked laugh. He turned, facing Qui-Gon with glassy eyes and a snarl on his lips. "You did this for you. You did this to make yourself feel better. Didn't you?"

Qui-Gon cocked his head. He tried to feel beyond the words Obi-Wan had just spewed at him, to understand the reasoning behind the vitriolic comments. "You are unwell, Obi-Wan. You need rest."

Obi-Wan barked out a hoarse laugh as he used shaky arms to push himself up onto his knees. "Oh, I'm going to need a hell of a lot more than that, I think."

The air between them tingled with a dangerous energy. Qui-Gon felt the warnings of the Force whispering urgently in his mind. Something was rapidly changing. Obi-Wan had his head down, staring at his knees with that odd, smug smile on his face. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon felt his heart jump. Crimson mist was swirling around Obi-Wan's eyes, overlapping the whiteness but not yet forcing his eyes completely red. "Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon started cautiously. "You need to calm yourself. You need to take control of yourself."

Obi-Wan's shoulders jerked on their accord. "I don't need to listen to you anymore, remember? You were right to have had your doubts about me. You must have foreseen that this would happen." Obi-Wan made a hiccup-like sound before his head twitched uncontrollably. Qui-Gon stared at Obi-Wan's fingers, noting the way they trembled violently. The muscles in Obi-Wan's arms shook, getting ready to lunge.

Qui-Gon moved first, leaping for Obi-Wan and pinning him to the ground under his large frame. He encased Obi-Wan's wrists in his hands and knelt upon his chest, making sure his body was out of reach from the gnashing teeth of Obi-Wan.

"My doubts were never about you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan's body stopped thrashing. Qui-Gon continued to pin the young apprentice. Obi-Wan turned his head away from Qui-Gon. His savage grunts turned into soft sobs. Tears ran down his face.

"You can control this, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon encouraged.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "There's too much...I can feel everything," he panted. "I can feel it all...everything they felt. They're inside of me...all of them," he gasped. Waves of rage flowed from Obi-Wan, making Qui-Gon cringe under the assault of dark energy. "Get them out of my head!" He begged.

"Fight this!" Qui-Gon urged. "They will not have you!"

Obi-Wan bit his bottom lip until it bled. He squeezed his eyes closed, dug his nails into his palms. His heart beat erratically as thoughts and emotions poured through his body, screamed in his mind. Visions of blood, teeth and nails, limbs and flesh tearing, raced through his brain. He wanted to scream with them, break free and destroy. But he held them at bay, fighting to capture a sense of calm in the tumultuous storm that was taking place in his mind. He pictured himself at the centre of it all, sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed, ignoring everything. He had to become that; he had to pretend it didn't exist.

Obi-Wan's body seemed to melt beneath him. Qui-Gon watched the boy's face fall slack as whatever battle was raging inside of him came to a screeching halt. Tentatively, Qui-Gon released one of Obi-Wan's wrists to place it on the boys cheek. He no longer felt the waves of rage emanating from the boy he had felt earlier. Qui-Gon lifted an eyelid. He sighed audibly in relief. The red was gone, replaced by the familiar sea-green. He was in a deep trance, but how he managed to place himself in one within the chaos of the infection was beyond Qui-Gon.

He backed away from Obi-Wan and ran a shaking hand over his face. That had been too close. He glanced down at the lightsaber hanging off his belt. For a brief moment, he wondered how long it would take to jump away from Obi-Wan and to ignite the weapon, and whether that length of time would be sufficient.

He did not sleep for the remainder of the trip back. Nor did he try to meditate. Instead, he sat with his back against a stack of containers and his eyes never left his former Padawan's still body.


	15. Rain

The ship buckled, then groaned as it touched down upon the landing platform in front of the Coruscant Health Authority building, looming cold and ominously before them. Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open when the landing jolted him out of his trance. Wearily, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Qui-Gon smiled tiredly at him. He had not slept and the evidence was written plainly on his face in deep creases under his eyes. Obi-Wan looked down at his feet and sighed. No words were spoken between them.

The ship was making loud clunks as doors were opened and hatches were released, including the door to the cargo bay. Qui-Gon stood slowly, then offered a hand to Obi-Wan as he struggled to his feet. The fever had broken some hours before, but he was still weak in the knees. Qui-Gon steadied him with a strong arm at his elbow. The boy was pale, with dark circles under his eyes and a faint tremor in his limbs that he struggled to control. Obi-Wan was embarrassed at his weakness; he hoped Qui-Gon didn't notice.

The door opened with a swoosh of air. The captain and two stern looking guards stood before them. The captain eyed them severely for a few moments, particularly Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan endured his scrutiny uneasily. He felt ashamed of himself, that he had failed them all, including his former master.

"You have nothing to feel guilty for Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said quietly.

Obi-Wan glanced at the tall Jedi standing beside him, so assured of himself and Obi-Wan's place in this situation. Obi-Wan envied his cool grace.

The captain finally nodded at them, seemingly satisfied that Obi-Wan exhibited no signs of infection. "They're taking us to detox," he said to Qui-Gon in that gruff voice of his. "This one was bitten," he said pointing to Obi-Wan.

The guards stepped forward. Qui-Gon stood in front of Obi-Wan protectively. "He is not infected."

The captain shrugged. "It's not coming from me. These fine men are with the Health Authority. Once he passes all of their tests, I'm sure they'll be more than happy to hear your grievances."

Qui-Gon knew he would not win any arguments here without severe reprimand from the Jedi Council. Grudgingly, he stepped aside. The guards stood on either side of Obi-Wan and motioned him forward with their rifles. Obi-Wan looked back at Qui-Gon uncertainly.

Qui-Gon tried to smile, but it came across as a grimace. "I'll see you in a little while," he reassured.

* * *

The process of decontamination was almost identical to the first time he had gone through it, although this time he was subjected to an unpleasant droid that poked and prodded his wound with a very pointy needle, stripping bits of flesh and tissue away for sampling. Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek and did his best to ignore the angry flares of pain radiating from his arm. When the droid was done mangling his wound, it considerately washed and disinfected it, which nearly brought tears to Obi-Wan's eyes. He suddenly wished the droid were poking it again instead of having to suffer through the sharp sting of disinfectant. It finally cooled down, and the wound was wrapped in soothing layers of bacta gel and tight bandages.

Just as before, he endured a lengthy and rather terse interview with several health officials who glared at him suspiciously over their datapads until his mouth was dry and his voice hoarse from repeating answers over and over again. They kept him overnight; replaced his torn and dirty Jedi robes with a sterile looking tunic over white pants and then ushered him off to the Jedi Temple where he was met by three medics at the entrance, smiling serenely at him. He lowered his eyes.

The medical bay in the Jedi Temple had given him a window view. He wasn't sure why; the only thing to see on Coruscant was city followed by more city. He supposed it was a little bit of kindness that the healers could give, and he should be thankful. However, he couldn't seem to form the words whenever one entered to check on him.

He was staring out the window at the city bathed in twilight while a healer held his arm and checked his pulse. He ignored her while she shone a light in his eye and pulled on his bottom lids, and made no move to stop her when she put her head to his chest to listen to his lungs. She checked his shoulder, manipulating it with her hands, rolling it backwards and forwards, clicking approvingly at its unhindered movement. She noted something down on a datapad and without another word left him. He sat at the window until twilight gave way to blackness and the entire city lit up in brilliant neon colours. Hover crafts zipped in and out of his view like little insects. It seemed so achingly normal, so oblivious to anything out in space beyond the safety of its own atmosphere. Much like he had once been before he left the safety of the Jedi Temple.

He closed his eyes, suppressed the shudder that coursed through him as he lay his fatigued head down on the bed. He felt like an alien here; an outsider who no longer fit in. And he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to find his way back.

* * *

Qui-Gon stood in the centre of the circular council room, clasping his hands together respectively, demurely, in front of the 12 serving Masters. They regarded him coolly, inspecting him without being invasive. Younger Jedi often found this room intimidating. Qui-Gon found it intriguing at times, and at other times, irritating. Tonight he found it exhausting. He had just as many questions as they did, and found himself struggling to comprehend all that had happened.

"The question remains," Ki-Ad-Mundi began in his slow tenor of a voice. "Why was young Kenobi not infected?"

12 sets of eyes focused intently upon Qui-Gon. He inhaled sharply and held his breath while staring at the floor. Finally, he looked up.

"I have considered the question at length, but I do not have any concrete answer for it," he admitted. "But I hesitate to call the infection a disease, in the common sense of the word."

Wayward glances were exchanged. Eyebrows rose. Throats were cleared.

"It passed from the exchange of blood and bodily fluids, that much was ascertained and proven," Qui-Gon continued. "But this infection spread so easily because it was helped along the way."

The council stared at him, awaiting his next words.

"Hatred helped. Pre-existing rage helped. Were the inhabitants of Melida/Daan truly infected with something that made them more animal-like, or did this thing, this agent, simply release them from any conscience that would normally hold them back from acting upon violent desires that already existed inside each of them? The entire planet was a war zone, feeding itself on bloodshed and hatred that could never be pacified. Perhaps the virus was a way of ending that bloodshed once and for all. In a way, it was the only way the planet could heal itself and experience peace once again."

Yoda murmured. His ears twitched downward as he began to draw invisible lines in the floor with his walking stick.

"Obi-Wan has only ever known the sanctity of the Jedi Temple. He does not know hate, not the way his companions on Melida/Daan did. I believe that this saved him."

"But now he knows loss," Mace Windu pointed out. "He now knows the pain of grief. It can turn into confusion and that confusion can turn into anger, into hatred; the very essence of the dark side we strive to overcome. How that will affect his future as a Jedi must be examined thoroughly."

Qui-Gon nodded. "He has experienced much loss. However, there is nothing, no one, to blame that loss on. There is no hatred in that kind of loss." He looked up at the council beseechingly, knowing that if the Jedi were to lose Obi-Wan, not only would the galaxy suffer because of it, but he would too. "There is only emptiness."


	16. Close Your Eyes

He felt the morning before opening his eyes and acknowledging it. Mornings at the Jedi Temple began softly, with the venerable Jedi Masters awaking earliest to go through morning meditations and exercises. Then the droids whirred mechanically to life as they went about their daily business. It finally rose to a cacophony of noise when the younglings awoke, full of vigour and barely restrained exuberance. He felt it all on this particular morning, even while he shut his eyes against it.

Obi-Wan finally decided to quit pretending he was asleep when the small cylindrical droid entered his room in the medical bay and began its soft clicks and warbles as it read from the computers cataloguing Obi-Wan's progress. He sat up and stretched, ignoring the droid as it whistled softly at him in greeting.

One of the healers gracefully entered, a tall humanoid with dark skin that contrasted against the striking slashes of white that coloured her face and hands. Her eyes were semi-transparent azure that seemed to look beyond the tangible. He felt stripped and bare in front of her, as though there was nothing he could conceal from her. It irked him somewhat.

"You are being released today," she said while smiling at him. Her voice was low, soft and flavoured with an exotic accent.

He nodded, indifferent.

She cocked her head at him. "You are not happy with this? I thought that young Kenobi would be overjoyed with this news. You have spent more time in the medical bay throughout your life here than you have in your own quarters."

He forced himself to smile at her.

* * *

He was sitting on a rock, watching the waterfall. It had been one of his favourite places to go with Bant, but in the days following his arrival back at the Temple and his ensuing release from the medical bay, he found himself visiting it alone. He was resting his arms on a folded knee while his other leg extended out in front of him. He had no thoughts and felt no emotion. He supposed some part of him enjoyed the way the water moved and that was why he liked to go there. Another part of him knew it was only in the immensity of so many living and vibrant things that he could feel the isolation he so craved.

Today, however, was not a day for isolation. He registered a familiar presence behind him but he did not turn. Bant was watching him silently; had been for some time now. She finally sat down, folding her hands demurely on her bent knees, and for a few minutes neither spoke.

"Will we ever come here again?" Bant asked.

Obi-Wan watched the waterfall distantly. "We will," he answered.

"But it will never be the same," Bant remarked sadly.

Obi-Wan did not answer her. There was no need to.

"There's going to be a memorial tonight," Bant said. "I thought you might like to go with me."

Obi-Wan glanced at her. Her large, protruding eyes were meekly cast downward. He wondered idly if she found it difficult to look at him now. "A memorial for who?"

"Cerasi," she answered. Obi-Wan's pulse jumped at the sound of her name. The sinking feeling of regret made its presence known in his gut. He closed his eyes against it. "The others who died, all the Melida/Daan; they're going to remember everyone. Even those who tried to save them." She emphasized the last part for Obi-Wan's sake. It did not go unnoticed.

"The Senate has declared Melida/Daan a banned zone," she continued. "No one is allowed to go there. They're-"

"They're abandoning it," Obi-Wan finished for her. Bant fell silent. Obi-Wan picked at a small pebble lodged in the mossy undergrowth beside his foot. Finally freeing it, he brushed the black soil off of it before tossing it into the water. Small ripples floated lazily back the shore towards him. "That's what we all should have done. It was foolish to go back."

Bant smiled sadly at him. "No it wasn't. Not when there was still hope to be found."

Obi-Wan frowned at her. "But there wasn't any hope. It was a futile mission. We didn't find anything."

"I think you're wrong," Bant said. She clasped one of her hands over his. "I think you found something you had lost awhile ago. And now, I don't think you will ever lose it again." She gave his hand another squeeze and smiled so brightly at him that her eyes almost disappeared into her cheeks. The action was contagious. The corners of his mouth tentatively quirked upwards. Bant stood up.

"I hope you'll go with me to the memorial," she reiterated before turning to leave.

He watched her go, musing over her sentiments. For so long, he had felt as though he had been engulfed in darkness, alone and helpless, ashamed of his past decisions and guilt-ridden for not only abandoning his Master and the Jedi, but for failing to keep the children of Melida/Daan safe. Now he felt, for the first time in what seemed like ages, the fluttering of something familiar in the core of his being. The heavy weight on his shoulders eased a bit as he once again recognized the feelings he shared for Bant, for the wise Masters and courageous Knights, for the Temple and for all of his friends and comrades within it.

There was still goodness to be found. And now he knew where to look. He brushed his hands on his pants and stood up, watching the waterfall for a few more seconds before leaving for his quarters.

* * *

Silence pervaded the round auditorium where scores of Jedi, scientists, soldiers and politicians alike stood sombrely. The auditorium was outside, high upon the platform that also housed the Senate building, located in a quiet park sparsely decorated. The auditorium was constructed of simple white stone; in the middle stood a large open fire pit where a bonfire roared. One of the senators, Obi-Wan couldn't recall the name, made a touching, if somewhat disingenuous speech about the inherent tragedy in such a massive loss of life. Obi-Wan only half listened. The senator had not been there; she could only imagine her words. If she had been there, she would know that no words could ever suffice for such an overwhelming event.

The Jedi wore their hoods up, shielding most of their faces. Obi-Wan was glad of the thick brown hood that covered his face. He did not want the others to see him.

_'Cerasi, Nield...where are you now?' _he wondered. A spark snapped in the fire then floated upwards into the night sky. Obi-Wan hypnotically watched it, staring at the star-laden sky where the spark withered and disappeared. A tear slid from his eye and rolled down his cheek.

Something brushed against his shoulder. He looked up into the warm face of Qui-Gon Jinn. "It's over now," he said.

Obi-Wan wiped his cheek and nodded. The spectators were filing out of the auditorium slowly and quietly out of respect for the dead. He inhaled deeply. "Yes it is," he finally said.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both looked up to see Bant approaching. She bowed deeply to Qui-Gon who smiled warmly in return at the Mon Calamiri girl. "Obi-Wan, Im going to go back," she said.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you Bant," he said, straining to let her hear appreciation in his voice. "For everything."

She smiled genuinely, gave him a quick wave and left him with his former Master.

"You have good friends," Qui-Gon remarked.

"The best," Obi-Wan agreed.

"You are fortunate to have found them," Qui-Gon continued. "Some beings go their entire life without knowing the value of friendship. They have no one to confide in, no knowledge of trust or comfort. And then they become politicians."

Obi-Wan barked out an unexpected laugh, and then quickly covered his mouth with his hand when several astute looking individuals turned to look sharply at him. Qui-Gon grinned at him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"The Council wishes to speak with us tomorrow," he informed Obi-Wan soberly.

Obi-Wan had been expecting this for some time. He was surprised the Council had waited so long. "They will decide what to do with me then," he surmised.

Qui-Gon dipped his chin downwards. "Yes. But you will not be alone," Qui-Gon said. "I will be there with you."

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon. There was no reason for this man to feel any devotion to him; after all, it had been Obi-Wan who abandoned Qui-Gon and the Jedi, not the other way around. Yet still, here he was, and here he continued to be. "I'm sorry I left you," Obi-Wan said quietly.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for. I understand your motives. It was not a betrayal that led you away from me; it was a calling."

Obi-Wan fought back the tears that threatened to fall. He was tired of crying. "It was wrong."

Qui-Gon laid his strong hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders. "They needed you more than I did."

Obi-Wan let his head fall to his chest. "They died anyway."

"There was nothing you could have done. The important thing was that you tried." Qui-Gon scooped a finger under Obi-Wan's chin and lifted his head up to face him. "What kind of person would you be, much less a Jedi, if you did nothing at all?"

Obi-Wan stared into Qui-Gon's face and tried to let the words sink past the barrier of guilt he had erected all this time. There was nothing he could do for Cerasi or Nield or anyone else now. He had to find his own path from this moment forward, and leave the past where it belonged no matter how haunting it was.

"Here," Qui-Gon had his hand extended to Obi-Wan. There was something in his palm. Obi-Wan picked it up, felt the familiar warmth of the river stone Qui-Gon had given him for his 13th birthday.

Obi-Wan stared at it in wonder. "I thought I lost it." He thumbed the grooves in the rock, remembered the confidence it had given him when he thought he would lose his memory and his mind.

Qui-Gon folded his hands into his robe. "No," he said casually. "You misplaced it. I held onto it for you."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said gratefully. Qui-Gon clapped him on the back as they began to leave the auditorium.

"Lets go home."


	17. Epilogue

He felt Qui-Gon's approach minutes before the large Jedi reached his quarters. Obi-Wan opened the door before Qui-Gon had a chance to press the ringer. Qui-Gon gave him a slight smile. Obi-Wan returned the gesture. Silently, the two made their way to the lifts. There were no words spoken between them as they rode the lift, nor when they entered the Jedi Council chamber. Obi-Wan was formally informed of his reinstatement with the Jedi and he politely thanked the Masters as he bowed obsequiously. He listened attentively to the stipulations of his probationary period and replied with the utmost sincerity that he would follow the Code obediently. He similarly thanked and bowed to Qui-Gon when Qui-Gon requested to have Obi-Wan reaffirmed as his Padawan learner. Yoda consented to the request on behalf of the entire Council with a slight smile and a somewhat triumphant glint in his bulging eyes. It was only when they left the confines of the chamber that Qui-Gon finally studied Obi-Wan with frank concern while pausing on balcony overlooking the expansive gallery within the Temple.

"What are your thoughts?"

Obi-Wan leaned on the edge of the balcony, disinterestedly watching the Temple activities below. He looked at Qui-Gon, seriousness gathering in his eyes. "It's still inside of me, isn't it?"

Qui-Gon's forehead creased as he frowned. He joined Obi-Wan at the balcony, taking stock of the overwhelming feeling of serenity and purpose within the Temple. "In a way, it is within all of us. Do you believe you will succumb to it?"

Obi-Wan bit his bottom lip. "It scares me," he admitted. "I could have killed you, Qui-Gon. A part of me wanted to. What if I lose control like that again?"

But you didn't lose control," Qui-Gon answered. "I don't believe you would have killed me. There is goodness in you that would have stopped you and will always stop you from committing such acts. I have faith in you, Obi-Wan." He rested his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "And in any event, it is my obligation to stop you in such follies." He tugged harshly on Obi-Wan's Padawan braid for emphasis. "By Jedi law."

Obi-Wan smiled warmly at his master, then rubbed his scalp where the braid was hitched.

"There is goodness out there,' Qui-Gon said, motioning to the windows where Coruscant spread out before them. "Sometimes it is difficult to find. But it is there. There is death, there is violence and there is agony. But there is also beauty, humour and compassion. Nothing stays constant. The universe is in a state of eternal flux. Goodness does not always last, but neither does evil."

Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan leaned himself off of the balcony and stood before his Master with his arms folded in his robe, listening attentively. "You have experienced evil beyond description, Obi-Wan. This may not be the last time either. But you have also discovered friendship and affection, and you were willing to sacrifice yourself out of a love that extended far beyond yourself. I cannot think of a greater good."

Obi-Wan was about to thank his Master for his words when a wheeled droid scurried up to them and nudged a datapad into Qui-Gon's hands. Qui-Gon took the small device and the droid wheeled away quickly, chirping as it went. Qui-Gon studied the square screen for a moment before sighing and placing the datapad into a pocket in his robe.

"So much for a vacation," he mumbled. Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow at him. Qui-Gon gave him a grimace. "Negotiations between the government and one of the shipping cartels on Abregado-rae have broken down. They have requested our presence." Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan who nodded gravely. The solemn countenance of his young apprentice made Qui-Gon grin.

"Lets go to work."

The End

_Thanks for reading!_


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